Just Going With It
by pinkdigi
Summary: When the world falls apart, they only have each other. [PostHBP. HG and RHr, with Horcrux hunt and Final Battle]
1. New Beginnings

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter One: New Beginnings  
**……………………………………………………………

The unexpected death of Albus Dumbledore had gripped the wizarding world in a way that seemed almost unfathomable to Hermione Granger. She had never – not even in her wildest fantasies of magical beings, witches and wizards, dating back to when she was but a mere child – seen so many extraordinary things and, moreover, _people_, all gathered together.

It was the type of event that should be brought about by happy times, perhaps the permanent defeat of Voldemort. It should not have been the honoring, the _burial_, of the greatest wizard to ever live.

Who could protect everyone, specifically Harry, from Lord Voldemort? Dumbledore was the only one that he ever feared and now, he was gone. And not just on a mysterious leave of absence that caused excited whispers to make their way along the corridors and throughout the Great Hall when teachers weren't around. He wasn't coming back.

Albus Dumbledore had been murdered. Hit with the Avada Kedavra curse, no less.

If that wasn't enough to make Hermione utter a gut-wrenching sob and wish that this madness would just _end_, Snape had been the one to utter that fatal spell. Severus Snape, the one whom Professor Dumbledore "trusted completely". Snape, the professor who had been gunning to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for longer than Hermione had been alive ... the one who had been branded with the Dark Mark. He was the greasy man who not only hated James and Sirius, but contributed greatly to both of their deaths.

The man who had been inside the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, the man who had been entrusted with the daunting task of teaching Harry Occlumency, was a traitor. He worshipped the 'Dark Lord'.

Hermione was, no doubt, a clever witch. How could she not recognize the signs? Why didn't she listen to Harry? Hadn't he said from day one that Malfoy was planning something, and that Snape was likely involved and assisting him?

But no, Hermione wouldn't listen. She was too busy with important things to deal with Harry and his ramblings. She was too far up on her high horse, after being correct about the Department of Mysteries, to even consider that she wasn't right this time around. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. And Hermione's ego was as big as they came.

She knew she mustn't blame herself, that it wasn't _her _fault that Dumbledore was dead, or that Malfoy and Snape had gotten away. She wasn't responsible for anything, but that didn't keep the thoughts from creeping into her head.

"The Half-Blood Prince," why didn't she figure it out sooner? She correctly brewed a Polyjuice Potion in her second year at Hogwarts! She helped get past that three-headed dog, she solved the mystery of the Basilisk ... she got an "O" on all but one OWL! This should have been easy for her!

And now, Hogwarts was closing, perhaps forever. Harry was going off to find the remaining Horcruxes. Ginny was nursing a slightly broken heart, and Bill was nursing wounds from a werewolf. There was nothing she could do about it.

Draco Malfoy was out there somewhere, considering himself Voldemort's most faithful follower ... or was he being punished for not being able to kill Dumbledore himself? Was he being tormented, was he feeling Voldemort's wrath because Snape had to do the Killing Curse for him? She prayed that, wherever Malfoy was, he was being tortured until the welcome release of death was upon him.

……………………………………………………………

The trip home, which happened much earlier and under much darker pretenses than anyone had expected when they made the journey in September, was unusually quiet. The compartment holding Ginny, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna was not filled with the usual sounds of laughter and swapping of treats, so much as it was filled with a deafening silence, the occasional sniff and the low croaking of Trevor, Neville's toad.

They had loads to say to each other, most importantly goodbye, but everyone refused to be the first to speak. They were all hesitant to break the silence, and Ginny found herself praying that she would get an invitation to join 'the Slug Club' for a farewell cup of tea.

She did not want to be there.

She didn't want to deal with Luna, absentmindedly twiddling her thumbs because she didn't have the heart to pull out her issue of _The Quibbler_, which was no doubt already full of crazy stories about how Dumbledore was killed by a Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

She didn't think she could put up with much from Neville, either. Her patience was wearing thin, and even dear, sweet Neville was eligible to receive a Bat Bogey Hex if he wasn't careful. She might've done it by now, if Hermione hadn't cast a silencing spell on his stupid toad mere seconds before she pulled out her own wand.

Hermione, while earning points for putting an end to the incessant croaking, had been driving her absolutely mad. She hadn't dragged Ron off to do prefect rounds, for obvious reasons, and it was killing her slowly. Enforcing rules was Hermione's favourite pastime, apart from reading _Hogwarts: A History_, and she couldn't do either at that present moment. If any of them had been conversing, she would've begged Hermione to just whip out her book and stop shifting in her bloody seat.

Ron was staring blankly into space, but that was to be expected. He was obviously bored out of his mind, and was most likely daydreaming about snogging, or something disgusting like that. His stomach gave a loud grumble, effectively cutting through the silence of the room, and Ginny decided that perhaps her brother was wondering whether or not the food trolley would come by, instead of that slag, Lavender Brown. Nonetheless, she didn't want to be around him at the moment.

She most certainly did not want to sit beside one Harry Potter, who would no doubt be spending the majority of his summer at The Burrow, with her, presuming he didn't start his heroic "vanquish He Who Must Not Be Named" flight just yet. He had just, however unintentionally it had been, broken her heart. She knew he had every reason in the world to not be with her, and that he was being brave and noble, and she should be thankful that someone of his caliber even _looked _at her. She was poor and had big, yucky freckles all over her skin. He was famous and, unless some miracle occurred, most likely going to suffer the same fate as countless great wizards (Professor Dumbledore, included) before him. But, no matter what their futures held, she desperately wanted him to want her, to tell her that he was crazy when he broke up with her and that he _needed _to be with her.

Ginny was about to get up and visit Dean, hoping his compartment would be a little more lively, when she resurveyed her surroundings.

Her brother was now staring, absolutely love struck, at Hermione. She looked his way and caught his eye, rousing a smile from his otherwise sullen face, and causing his ears to glow bright red in the process. Ron casually stretched and inched his way closer to the busy-haired girl, while Hermione shifted to get comfortable, successfully sliding about a foot closer to Ginny's git of a brother. Could they be any more horrendously obvious?

Luna had finally given in and pulled out a copy of _The Quibbler_, which she flipped through rather violently before stopped on a specific page and turning it upside-down. Neville yawned, causing his grip to loosen to Trevor, who sprang free and had to be cornered by Harry, Neville and Ron before he could be caught again, looking unhappy as ever as he moved his mouth soundlessly.

Ginny then threw a quick glance at Harry, who returned the glance and offered her a small, uncertain smile. She smiled back, though she didn't feel like it, and briefly wondered whether she would ever be able to genuinely smile, laugh, or jump for joy ever again. Harry put an arm around her, pulling her closer to him, and she smiled once again. It was still uncomfortable and foreign on her face, like her skin was pulled far too tight to accommodate the smile creeping its way across her visage, but not as severely as it had previously felt.

Looking around at her friends, she couldn't help but feel her heart lift slightly. Luna had slowly drifted off to asleep, her head on Neville's shoulder and her magazine face-down in her lap. Neville had a faraway look in his eyes, but a tinge of colour creeping to his cheeks, most likely due to his contact with Luna. Hermione and Ron's shoulders were now touching, though they acted as if they hadn't moved even an inch from their previous spots. Harry, the boy who had broken up with her not three hours before, had his arm idly draped over her, his thumb running small circles on her shoulder.

They were an odd bunch, she wouldn't deny it, but she didn't care. To Ginny Weasley, there was no place in which she could possibly find better company, than where she currently was.

Nobody uttered another sound until they were about twenty minutes from their destination of King's Cross.

'D'you reckon this'll be our last time coming home from Hogwarts?'

……………………………………………………………

Harry had not considered it – _truly _considered it – until Ron spoke up.

'D'you reckon this'll be our last time coming home from Hogwarts?'

Sure, he had thought about no longer having to deal with classes and homework and Filch, but he never fully comprehended what he was losing.

Harry would no longer get to play and watch the Quidditch games; no more seeing Dobby, the house elf. He would never again walk through Platform Nine and Three Quarters or hear Hagrid calling '_firs'-years over 'ere ..._'

There would be no Sorting Hat ceremony, no amazing feasts or late night runs to the kitchen under the protection of his Invisibility Cloak. The Marauder's map would be of no use to him. No Hogsmeade weekends, no secret DA meetings, no parties in the common room.

He would miss it.

He would miss the cold air that snuck in through the castle walls, the Fat Lady outside Gryffindor common room, the staircases that moved on their own accord. He would miss visiting Hagrid's Hut and the crazy, dangerous trips to the Forbidden Forest – ones that he took more often than he should have, being that it was "forbidden."

He was leaving behind beloved teachers and friends, many of whom he may never see again. Many of whom might not survive the summer.

It was all too much for Harry to deal with, having just sat through Dumbledore's funeral. Of course, that wasn't all he had done. He had ended things with Ginny, and unwittingly vowed that he, Ron and Hermione would track down the Horcruxes together.

What was he thinking? He may have just agreed to lead his best mates to their deaths. And even if they _did _survive, there was no doubt in Harry's mind that they would follow him all the way to the Final Battle, in which he – and he alone – could defeat Voldemort.

How many lives would be lost? Ron and Hermione had sacrificed themselves for him countless times in the past, and had made it no secret that they would do it again.

'Harry, come on. For all we know, you're probably the one who can defeat You-Know-Who. I can't, Hermione can't ... I bet even Dumbledore can't. It's up to you, and if I need to – to ... you know ... then I will,' Ron had said after the battle at the Department of Mysteries, when they were alone in the Hospital Wing.

He couldn't express to Ron how touched he was at that moment. Harry had told him that it was unnecessary, and that it would never come to that. Ron had just shrugged, and after seeing the look of fierce loyalty and determination in his eyes, Harry vowed to himself that he would never let Voldemort anywhere _near _Ron or Hermione from that moment on.

He intended to keep that vow, which meant he had to find a way to keep them from being present in the Final Battle. He would Stun them, throw his cloak over them and hide then under a bed at The Burrow, if he absolutely had to.

There was a pattern for people who wanted to help him: they ended up dead. It happened to everyone he has ever loved because Voldemort knew how he felt for them. He knew, and he killed them, so he could weaken Harry. But Harry was through with being weak. He wouldn't let Voldemort kill anther person that he loved. Voldemort had already taken too many, and now it was time for him to pay.

'Dunno,' Ginny mumbled from beside him. 'I hope not. You lot might be okay to leave Hogwarts, but I haven't even finished all of my OWLs yet.'

'It'll feel too weird there, without Dumbledore,' said Neville, coming out of his reverie.

'Yes, but we mustn't _quit _school. Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted that,' Hermione enforced.

'Yes, but we might not have a choice, Hermione,' argued Ron. A silence fell over the compartment and its six members as they considered this.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, who had moved apart slightly, Neville, Luna, who had stirred moments before Ron spoke, and Ginny, the girl in his arms. They were his friends, each a piece of the puzzle. Ron and Hermione, his very first friends ever ... without them, he would have been dead in the first year. Neville, the boy could have been in his shoes, if only Voldemort had picked Frank and Alice Longbottom instead of James and Lily Potter. Luna, the girl whose sanity was questionable, yet could see the Thestrals and hear the voices behind the veil, just as he could. And Ginny, the only person who made him feel utterly happy and completely understood, no matter what crazy thing was happening around or inside of him.

It only seemed fitting that, if this truly was their last ride, he spent it with them. They (or at least he, Ron, Hermione and Neville) spent their very first one together. It was a nice way to bookend their Hogwarts experience. It felt like just yesterday they were anxiously making their way to their new school, and now, six short years later, they were leaving. Harry's heart would ache for Hogwarts and the fact that he couldn't return, but knew that he wouldn't, even if everyone else did. He had a job to do – he owed it to Dumbledore.

The train slowed and gradually came to a halt. They looked around at each other, wishing that they didn't have to get up and go their separate ways. Harry hugged each of them, even Ron and Ginny, who he would no doubt be seeing within a few weeks. After exchanging hugs and promises to write to each other, something they've never done before, they collected their things and got off the train.

And then, for the very last time in his life, Harry Potter went home to number four, Privet Drive.

……………………………………………………………

As Ronald Weasley watched his best mate stalk off with those Muggles (moments before getting on the train, Harry had told Ron and Hermione that he really should go back there alone and they reluctantly agreed), he sighed and then turned to his mother. His father was off talking to Hermione's parents, looking absolutely thrilled and fascinated. They hugged hello, even though he had seen his mum at Dumbledore's funeral, just hours ago.

Mr Weasley, followed by the Grangers, came over with a smile across his tired, freckled face.

'Good news, good news! Hermione will be coming directly to The Burrow, to stay for a little while,' Arthur said.

'Mum doesn't think I'm safe at home, since they don't know magic, you know. I told them that I can do magic now without getting in trouble, but they still think you can protect me better than they or I could,' explained Hermione. 'I hope I'm not putting you out, Mrs Weasley.'

Ron's mum beamed and said something about how it was no trouble at all, but Ron wasn't really listening. Hermione, of all people, didn't need protection. She was the most capable witch his age, maybe even more capable than some of the older ones, too. But if her parents thought she needed protecting, Ron would be the one to protect her. Not Harry, not Vicky, who was off in Bulgaria somewhere. He, Ron, would keep her safe.

When they got to The Burrow (Ron tried to convince his mum that although he hadn't _technically _passed his test, he could still Apparate there, but she wouldn't allow it), the Grangers stayed for dinner. All the Weasley members (excluding Percy, of course), Tonks, Lupin, Fleur, Hermione and her parents had a big feast in the backyard.

Ginny seemed uncharacteristically quiet, but only Ron seemed to notice. He caught her eye and smiled, but she only nodded in return. Was it Harry? He'd kill Harry, best mate or not, if he had hurt his baby sister. Or maybe she was just upset over Dumbledore?

After dinner, the twins tried to organize a game of Quidditch. The Grangers, much to Ron's amusement, looked rather scared when Fred and George brought out the beaters' bats, but said nothing. Ginny, still in her weird mood, looked around and said, 'Y'know, I don't think I feel much like playing ... perhaps I'll just go up to bed.'

As she scurried off into the house, Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. After much prodding from her, Ron ran inside after his sister. He climbed up the sets of stairs and stopped outside her bedroom door. He knocked but she didn't answer.

'Gin? Gin, it's me, Ron ... can I come in?' Ron asked. When she still didn't answer, he turned the handle and went inside. He found Ginny, his only sister, the girl who was so vibrant and full of life, in a ball on her bed, crying so hard that she was shaking.

He had never particularly been there for Ginny. Even when she was little, she could hold her own, so he never had to protect her from Fred and George. When she started off at Hogwarts, she seemed to have a lot of friends, so he didn't hang out with her much. He always thought that maybe, if he had been there, she wouldn't have needed that bloody diary, and she wouldn't have been pulled into the Chamber of Secrets.

After that, he spent more time with her. She participated in DA meetings, and joined the Quidditch team. She followed the others to the Department of Mysteries where, much to his mix of pride and embarrassment, she fought much better than he did against the Death Eaters. He didn't protect her there; she was the one who protected him. She Stunned anyone who tried to hurt him while he wrestled helplessly with the brains and stayed with him while he healed in the Hospital Wing.

It was his time to finally, for once, just be her older brother. It was time to love her and give her a shoulder to cry on, because she definitely needed one.

Without another word, he walked over to her, wrapped his arms around her, and they stayed that like until Hermione came in a few hours later, ready for bed.

……………………………………………………………

The return to the Dursley house was bitter-sweet for Harry. He couldn't have been happier to know that he was officially free to leave – forever – after this short visit, but he was also uneasy because he knew that he was no longer protected from Voldemort in doing so.

He talked to Ron often, sending messages through Hedwig and Pig. Every letter contained information about Dementors and what was happening in the wizarding community, although Harry had read it all in the _Daily Prophet_. Harry was dying to know about the Order, and what they were doing, but he knew he couldn't ask incase the letters were intercepted. Finally, after nearly two uneventful (but not _completely_ miserable) weeks at the Dursley's, he owled Ron and told him that he was ready to go to the Burrow. Arthur Weasley sent an owl saying he would pick him up the following day at six in the evening.

Harry hastily packed everything he owned on the next morning, a beautiful, sunny Wednesday. This was the day he would leave the Dursley house. This was the last time he would see his aunt, uncle and cousin ever again. This was the day he had been waiting for since he arrived on their doorstep, sixteen years ago.

At half past five, he brought his trunk and Hedwig's cage downstairs into the living room. He made sure everything he owned was in it, since he would never be coming back to retrieve any forgotten items.

'So,' said Uncle Vernon, 'is that, er, Dumbuldey man coming to get you again?' At the mention of Dumbledore, Harry felt his chest tighten uncomfortably. He was so caught off guard that he didn't even have time to enjoy his uncle's shifty eyes and uneasy expression.

'Dumbledore? No,' Harry whispered. 'He – he's dead.'

Aunt Petunia now emerged from the kitchen, clearly having heard the exchange, looking nervous. 'What do you mean, dead?' she asked.

'I mean,' said Harry, irritably, 'that he died and it's therefore impossible for him to come back.'

'But ... what will happen now?' asked Aunt Petunia, her voice quivering. Harry had never, not once, seen her look so afraid. Did she perhaps understand how powerful Dumbledore had been, and how bleak things looked now that he's gone?

'Petunia, dear, what do we care what happens to their lot?' Uncle Vernon asked airily, waving a dismissive hand at his nephew.

'Because, Vernon, this has a lot to do with us, as well. Haven't you noticed strange happenings going on this past year?' Aunt Petunia sounded desperate now. 'The fog, all the murders, and that bridge collapsing last year?' She turned her attention back to Harry. Harry had only once before heard her talk about the wizarding world with actual concern and a little bit of knowledge. It was two years ago, when he and Dudley had been attacked by Dementors.

'It's okay, I'm taking care of it,' said Harry.

'What do you mean _you're_ taking care of it, boy?'

'The one causing all this trouble, Voldemort ... I'm the only one who can defeat him. Dumbledore and I had a mission before he died, and now it's up to me to complete it,' he explained. Her eyes went wide.

'You – you have to do it? You have to ... kill him?' Could that be fear in her voice, or was Harry just mistaken? 'He was the one who ... who killed _her_.'

'Yep,' he said curtly, slightly bothered by the fact that his aunt couldn't even bring herself to say her sister's name. Aunt Petunia strolled over to the couch and sat down beside Uncle Vernon. By the look on her face, she wanted to know more.

'But you'll be killed!' she exclaimed. Was that apprehension Harry heard?

'You never know. I've fought him before,' Harry explained. Aunt Petunia looked positively dumbstruck. 'A bunch of times, actually. Nearly every year since I started attending Hogwarts.'

Harry knew he had her undivided attention when she didn't cringe and tell him to keep his voice down when talking about that crackpot school of his. Uncle Vernon was absentmindedly staring at the TV, though Harry was sure he was taking in every word of the conversation.

'But you had that Dumbldore fellow back then, didn't you?' asked Aunt Petunia. Harry shrugged.

'Well, sometimes. Not the first year, when Voldemort possessed one of my teachers and tried to have him kill me. Not in my second year, when a Basilisk – it's a giant snake – bit me and tried to murder both me and my ... er, my friend's sister,' Harry said. 'And not fourth year, either, when I was transported to a graveyard and had to duel Voldemort after he murdered one of my friends,' he continued. She looked as if she might be sick, just hearing about the things her nephew had faced. Good, Harry thought, now maybe she'll understand that there are things out there that are more important than her garden and the bloody neighbours. 'Then there was fifth year – that was when my godfather died – and Dumbledore didn't show up to that fight until it was almost over. And even when he was there, Voldemort still managed to possess me for a bit. Oh – and five of my friends almost died that time, too. Then this year, a bunch of Voldemort's supporters broke into my school and almost killed them all again.'

'You – you've done all that?' whispered Aunt Petunia. 'All that has happened to – to you?' Harry nodded and shrugged.

'Yep,' he mumbled. The room fell silent for several moments; the only sound that could be heard was coming from the TV, which had been turned down considerably since the start of the discussion.

'And now you're going to fight this Vomeldort thing again?'

'Voldemort,' Harry corrected. 'And yeah I am, but not _right _now. First, I'm going to my friend Ron's house for a little vacation. But, since Hogwarts'll probably close down, I don't have any school to worry about,' he explained. 'And after I finish collecting everything I'm looking for, I'm going to hunt him down and end this, once and for all.'

Any colour left in her face previous to that last sentence drained away as Aunt Petunia gaped at Harry. Uncle Vernon must have forgotten that he was pretending to be deeply immersed in his TV programme, because his head snapped over in Harry's direction. Aunt Petunia stood up and took a step toward him, and Harry noticed that her hands were shaking slightly.

'Your mother she – she would be proud,' whispered Aunt Petunia.

'I like to think so,' replied Harry with a soft smile. He and his aunt – he and _any _member of this family – had never had a proper conversation in his life. They had never expressed any emotions toward Harry (unless you count blinding anger) and they had certainly never spoken about his mother in a nice way.

Aunt Petunia's eyes swept over Harry, who was now taller than her, and her chin quivered. Was she crying over him? Was she crying because she had only now realized it was his destiny to kill Voldemort? Or perhaps she was crying over her sister, the one she had only pretended to hate?

There was a loud _Crack! _and Arthur Weasley appeared in the Dursley's living room, a foot away from Harry. Uncle Vernon gave a small start, but Aunt Petunia remained unfazed. She was still gazing at Harry.

'Hello, all. So sorry to barge in like this ... Harry, son, are you all set?' Mr Weasley asked. Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off of his aunt. Mr Weasley looked around, examining the Muggle settings, but said nothing. He had learned, over the years, that the Dursley's weren't the most accepting of the wizarding world, and it was best not to rile them up.

Uncle Vernon arose from his place on the couch and stumbled over to where Harry and Aunt Petunia stood. He reached his hand out, waiting for Harry to shake it.

'Well, goodbye, then. You – er – take care of yourself, Harry,' he said slowly. Harry looked at his uncle and considered the strange look in his eyes. Every time Harry imaged this scenario in his mind, his uncle was dancing around the room, absolutely giddy that Harry would be gone. He wouldn't care what happened to Harry, as long as his bothersome nephew was out of his hair. But now, Uncle Vernon seemed to care – or, at the very least, seemed to realize the enormity of everything Harry had before him. He looked genuinely ... _something_, and it wasn't just because Mr Weasley was standing there holding a wand. He clapped Harry on the back and backed away.

Dudley chose that moment to enter the living room, giving a small yelp of fright upon seeing Mr Weasley. He looked at Harry and said, 'So, you're going, then?' Harry nodded. 'Oh.' He gave a small movement that looked similar to a slight wave, and Harry returned it wordlessly.

Aunt Petunia stepped a little closer to where Harry was standing, and in a move Harry never would have expected, she half-hugged him. 'Be safe,' she whispered.

When she pulled away, Harry looked at his uncle and was shocked to see that he didn't look absolutely outraged that his wife was showing affection for Harry. He felt a funny, strange sensation in his chest. Was he going to miss them? He didn't think it was possible, after every rotten thing they had ever done. But somewhere deep inside, during this conversation with his Aunt Petunia, he developed a tiny fondness for her. Or, at the very least, he loathed her a little bit less.

Harry turned to Mr Weasley and picked up Hedwig's cage.

'How're we getting to The Burrow, Mr Weasley?'

'We're Flooing there. You can't Apparate yet, right?' asked Mr Weasley.

'Right. I wasn't of age, so I couldn't go when Ron and Hermione took it,' Harry explained.

'Very well, then,' said Mr Weasley. 'Have you said your goodbyes?'

Harry nodded. An hour ago, the thought of saying goodbye to the Dursleys was laughable. He had planned on slipping away without uttering a single parting word with them. But now, as Ron's father grabbed his trunk and ushered him into the fireplace, he threw one final glance at them. He nodded at his Uncle Vernon, the short, round man whose face wasn't as purple today as it normally was. His eyes momentarily came to rest on Dudley, his childhood bully who was as large as ever. Then he caught sight of Aunt Petunia, his only remaining connection to his mother. She was his last surviving relative, the one who took him in all those years ago.

Had he ever said thank you? Of course he hadn't. He couldn't stand any of them up until ten minutes ago. Perhaps it's because he was on slightly better terms with them now, but Harry finally realized all that they'd done for him. While they never bought him anything new or even so much as smiled at him in the past, they had given him a place to live, some food to eat, and clothes to wear. And while none of these things were exactly wonderful, they had kept him alive.

'Thanks,' he mumbled. He was about to repeat it, slightly louder, when he saw Aunt Petunia nod slightly in recognition. She smiled at him, and mere seconds before Mr Weasley yelled 'The Burrow!' and they were spinning around in the flames, Harry could have sworn he saw a tear run down his aunt's cheek.

……………………………………………………………

The welcome wagon for Harry when he arrived at The Burrow was the usual clan on Weasley's (and Hermione, as well) but one was missing. After being greeted by the entire elder Weasley members and having Charlie tell him he'd only arrived earlier that morning, he approached Ron and Hermione.

'Where's Gin?' asked Harry.

'She's, er, in her room,' said Ron.

'She hasn't been herself lately, Harry,' Hermione added. 'She's either out here, moping around, or she's in our room, shutting herself away from everyone.'

Ron gave Harry a pleading look. 'Go talk to her?'

Harry nodded and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. He knocked, but Ginny didn't answer. He opened the door and hesitantly walked in. His eyes scanned the room, and found Ginny on her bed, her back to him. He crept deeper into the room, shutting the door slightly behind him, and sat on the edge of her bed.

As he reached out to stroke her hair she mumbled, 'Sod off, Ron. I told you I'm fine.' He leaned down and put his lips to her ear.

'Such a pretty girl shouldn't say such rude things,' he whispered.

She spun around to face him, a smile already cemented on her face. Her eyes were slightly red and her cheeks were tear-strained, her hair was disheveled, and Harry thought she looked beautiful.

Without thinking, he bent down and kissed her.

……………………………………………………………


	2. New Arrangements and Midnight Chats

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Thanks so much for the reviews!**

**Chapter Two: New Arrangements and Midnight Chats  
**……………………………………………………………

The feel of Ginny beneath him made Harry's head spin. It occurred to him briefly that he was, yet again, kissing a crying girl. Only this was much, much better than when he had kissed Cho.

He had never felt this way for anyone before Ginny, Cho included. She had the ability to make him lose his bearings, and yet make him feel so happy that he didn't care if he ever thought clearly again. She was even worth jeopardizing his relationship with Ron.

If Ron walked in right now, Harry was sure that his friendship with the youngest Weasley son would be collectively over.

Ginny moaned from underneath him and all thoughts of Ron were lost. Harry ran his tongue across her lips, seeking entrance. She parted her lips and massaged his tongue with her own. Her hands made their way to his hair, raking her fingernails against his skull, pulling him closer.

What was he thinking about?

Oh, right. Ron.

Harry pulled away and shook his head, panting heavily. Ginny sat up and cleared her throat, looking at him with a curious expression on her face.

'Sorry,' said Harry. 'I didn't – you were – I just ...'

'Harry,' Ginny said coaxingly, 'it's okay. I'm not angry with you.' Harry glanced up at her suspiciously.

'You're not?'

She shook her head. 'No. It was kind of nice,' she added thoughtfully.

'Yeah, but we – we broke up. We aren't supposed to ... you know,' he stammered.

'Tons of wizards aren't supposed to be killed by You-Know-Who. Dumbledore wasn't supposed to die. Snape wasn't supposed to be a double-agent, betraying Hogwarts, not to mention the Order. Hogwarts isn't supposed to close down. Ron isn't supposed to snog Lavender when he's clearly into Hermione,' Ginny said slowly. 'Lots of things that aren't supposed to happen, still happen.' She smiled coyly. 'I don't have to be your "girlfriend" if you don't think I'll be safe, Harry, but I'm still going to snog you senseless whenever the mood strikes me, whether I'm supposed to or not.'

Harry gaped at her in shock. Did he hear her correctly? Did Ginny actually say what he thought she said?

Wanting to make sure he was absolutely clear on this sudden change of events he asked, 'You mean we're still going to, er, do stuff, even though we aren't exactly together?'

'I have every intention of it, yes,' Ginny smiled. 'But I'm knackered, what d'you say we just go to sleep?'

'You've read my mind,' said Harry after stifling a yawn. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Ginny fell back against the mattress and slid over so Harry would have room to lie beside her. When he didn't move, she patted the spot beside her and raised her eyebrows. 'You want us to – er, I mean, you want me to stay here? What about Hermione?'

'Dunno.' Ginny shrugged. 'She'll just have to bunk with Ron tonight,' she offered, a suggestive smile tugging at her lips.

'Oh, Ron'll love that,' Harry laughed.

……………………………………………………………

When Ron announced that he was going to check on Ginny and Harry, Hermione jumped up and insisted that she go instead. Ron gave her a curious look, but sat back down, as if he understood. She offered a smile as she scurried out of the room, leaving Ron alone to stare at the chess set until she returned and made her next move.

Hermione then proceeded to climb the stairs to Ginny's room, hoping she wasn't about to walk in on anything too wanton. She noticed the door stood ajar, as if it hadn't been properly closed, and peeked inside. Harry and Ginny were in each other's arms, asleep on her bed.

It wasn't what she expected, and Hermione then had to ask herself exactly _what _she had expected. Either way, she was glad it had been her, and not Ron, who walked in on this. Her ginger haired friend wouldn't have taken too kindly to Harry lying on his little sister's bed, his arms draped around her, their faces inches apart.

She knew she should wake Harry; tell him to get to his own bed before Mrs Weasley came to check on them and shrieked with indignation, but she didn't have the heart to. She had known Harry for the better part of a decade, and had seen him truly happy only a few times. This past year, dealing with the loss of Sirius, and now Dumbledore, had taken a lot out of her friend, and she couldn't help but notice the small smile that was spread across Harry's relaxed, handsome features.

And Ginny, the poor girl hadn't been sleeping at all lately. They'd come down to breakfast every morning and she'd look like the living dead. She slept most of the day – at least that's what Hermione assumed she did, when she was shut up in her room.

She crept out of the room and made her way back downstairs to Ron. It was slightly after midnight, and the rest of the Weasley's had long since retired to their bedrooms.

'It looks like I'm sleeping with you tonight,' she said quietly when she returned to drawing room. He jumped, clearly not expecting her to appear out of nowhere – with a statement like that, no less – and almost sent the entire chessboard flying.

'What?'

'Well,' she began, 'Harry and Ginny are still in her room. Normally, I would be put up in the twins' bedroom, but there's a full house tonight, except for Bill. So,' she said, 'unless you want me falling asleep in the bed next to Charlie, I'm going to have to use Harry's bed, which, incidentally, is in your room.'

Ron stared at her for a long time, his brow furrowed. He finally asked, 'Why is Harry still in my sister's room? It's well past midnight and I don't see _what _they could be doing that would –'

'Obviously not _that_, you git,' snapped Hermione. 'They're asleep. Harry's using my bed.' Okay, so that last part was a lie, but it was the only way Hermione knew to calm Ron down and keep him from shouting so loud that he woke the whole house.

'You – you called me a git!' Ron gaped.

'Yes, I suppose I did,' she shrugged. 'Anyway, if you have a problem, you can always stay down here, but I'm going to bed – in _your _room.'

Ron's ears turned a slight pink, but he nodded and choked out, 'Yeah, yeah, I'll be up in a minute ...' Hermione nodded and went back up the stairs, hearing Ron mutter something about Harry having planned the entire thing, just to torture him.

Hermione frowned. Was spending a little extra time with her really torture? Hadn't they just spent quite a few hours alone in the drawing room, hardly even bickering at all?

Perhaps she had misread the entire evening, because she had had a perfectly lovely time.

Sighing, Hermione entered Ron's room and changed out of her robes, wondering why boys – namely, Ron – had to be so terribly difficult.

……………………………………………………………

'Bloody wanker, Harry is. He's done this on purpose, I bet ... just to torture me, to get a rise out of me. He and Ginny, well, the both of them are going to wish the Death Eaters had gotten them once I'm through.'

Ron took his time gathering up the chess pieces that night, trying to give Hermione enough time to change and fall asleep before he went upstairs. He didn't want to barge in on her changing, mostly because he knew he would stare and she would hit him. If she was awake, she'd probably want to have a long conversation about Harry and Horcruxes and what lay in store for them all.

He didn't much enjoy talking about the future, when it came to things like that. He had no problem discussing future careers, what he, Harry and Hermione will do after You-Know-Who is gone. That was good, positive thinking, as far as he was concerned. But Hermione, on the other hand, was more practical. She wanted to think of _how _they'd get rid of You-Know-Who, because until they did, they couldn't even begin to pursue future careers.

Sometimes, he privately consulted her about those things, but it was very rare. Unfortunately, it gave her the idea that it an acceptable conversation topic, so she very frequently had long, drawn out discussions about it. Ron wouldn't've minded so much, but she was so clever and complicated that everything she said just went right over his head, and probably Harry's, too. Bloody exhausting, is what it was.

After lingering in the drawing room for a few minutes, he extinguished the remaining candles with his wand and made his way up to his bedroom. His and Hermione's bedroom. He liked the sound of that. "His and Hermione's bedroom" sounded much better than any other title that he could think of, including "His and Lavender's bedroom."

Sometime, during their years at Hogwarts, he and Hermione had crossed the friend barrier. For Ron, it was around fourth year, with the whole Viktor Krum fiasco. Perhaps it was even before that, but he was never forced to confront his feelings until the Yule Ball. She looked awfully pretty that night. He didn't know when it happened for Hermione, but he was pretty sure that it did. After Viktor went back to Bulgaria, they had loads more arguments about him and they fought more passionately than they used to. Although he wasn't positive, he was fairly certain that Hermione had given him the silent treatment because of his relationship with Lavender. Was she jealous? And then there was that McLaggen bloke. Did she really like him, or had she only been trying to get back at Ron? If that was why, it had definitely worked.

They had, of course, reconciled. Ron and Lavender split up, and ... he assumed that Hermione dumped McLaggen. Who knows, maybe something would happen between the two of them now. They were pretty close during the funeral, when he had wrapped her in his arms and she allowed him to comfort her, something that had rarely happened in the past.

He walked into his bedroom and saw that Hermione was climbing into bed – his bed.

'Er – Hermione, that's not Harry's bed, that's, er, mine,' stammered Ron. As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn't. Hermione sleeping in his bed was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen, heard of, or imagined, throughout his entire life. He should have just gotten into Harry's and made himself comfortable.

'Oh, right ... I didn't – I must have forgotten,' Hermione mumbled. Ron highly doubted that, though. He, Ginny and Hermione (but mostly just he and Hermione) had spent loads of time in his room the last few weeks. Not to mention each and every summer since third year. Surely, by now, she had mentally distinguished between his and Harry's beds. And even if she hadn't, wouldn't the orange Chudley Cannon sheets have given it away?

He was about to make a suggestive comment about her and his bed, but he stopped short when he saw the look she gave him. She scowled, trudged over to Harry's bed, got under the covers and rolled over so she was facing away from him, without so much as a "goodnight".

What was with her?

She must have been angry, because she wasn't even reading.

Ron didn't know much about books and spells; he wasn't particularly good in school. He didn't have a vast vocabulary, and he was barely capable of doing his own homework. He wasn't too informed on girls (though he did learn a few things this passing year), or Dark wizards, or Muggles.

But if Ronald Weasley knew one thing, that thing was Hermione Granger.

She was a creature of habit, far more predictable than Harry or Ginny or anyone else in his life. When she was bored, stressed or anxious, happy or angry – or any other emotion that a human was capable of feeling – she read. In fact, in the six years that he'd known her, he could only recount a few times when he had seen her without her nose in a book, mostly during battles, like the Department of Mysteries, or this year, at Hogwarts. She practically lived in the library, especially when OWLs were approaching.

But right now, she wasn't reading.

Perhaps, to an outsider, that didn't seem like a big deal, but to Ron, it meant something. Hermione was either absolutely, completely exhausted and wasn't capable of holding her eyes open any longer, or she was feeling something so extreme that she was restless and dissatisfied, even with a good book at her disposal.

Of course, Ron could never _ask _her what was going on. She'd either snap at him, saying he wouldn't understand, or she would cry hysterically over the silliest thing, and he would have no hope of consoling her.

'Best leave it for Ginny,' he mumbled before turning on his side, putting his back to her.

After a while, Ron's breathing was starting to even out when Hermione gave a quiet, frustrated sigh and turned over. He opened his eyes but said nothing, merely listening, waiting for her to make another move.

From what Ron could tell, she had just stood up and crept across the floor to a place near the doorway. Was she going to the loo? No, Ron thought, she's getting a book.

Hermione's book collection resembled that of a small library's, and the Weasley's didn't read very much, so any book lying around the house would undoubtedly belong to her. Since she was rarely without a book in hand, it came of no surprise to anyone anymore to find a textbook lying around in the kitchen or the drawing room or, as the case was, one of their bedrooms.

Ron shut his eyes and focused hard on listening to Hermione's light footsteps as she made her way back to Harry's bed. He heard a barely audible groan of protest as her next-to-nothing amount of weight settled back onto the mattress. It was so quiet that he barely heard her when she whispered '_Lumos' _and opened her book.

Merlin, thought Ron, she really should have been Sorted into Ravenclaw.

No sooner had the thought entered his mind than Ron had already vanquished it, counting his lucky starts that she had ended up in Gryffindor, where she belonged.

What would his life be like, if Hermione hadn't been there, in his Gryffindor house, to share it with him?

For starters, his sister would be dead. Hermione and her endless amounts of research were the sole reason Harry and Ron had known where to look for Ginny, and how to get to her. Harry wouldn't have been able to save his sister if it hadn't been for her.

He would never have completed his homework assignments on time, or, if he had, he would've gotten "T" on everything. He wouldn't have passed any of his OWLs, except maybe Defense Against the Dark Arts, since that class had been Harry's obsession and not Hermione's.

He wouldn't have joined the Quidditch team, because he wouldn't have been made Prefect and, therefore, his mum wouldn't have bought him his Cleansweep. And he would still be a huge fan of Viktor Krum's, if he hadn't asked Hermione to the Yule Ball in fourth year.

He and Lavender wouldn't have broken up ... or perhaps they wouldn't have gone out at all. Yes, that was likely. The only reason Ron even considered her was because he needed to snog someone, just to prove to Ginny that he could. Her comments wouldn't have bothered him so much if she hadn't mentioned Hermione and Krum. The thought of her snogging him was enough to make Ron's blood boil. He wondered if she'd kissed McLaggen. If she did, he would surely make it his goal to hunt that git down and kick his arse.

He would probably be snapping at everyone left and right, because he wouldn't have her to row with and help him cool off. Ron and Hermione were notorious at Hogwarts for their rows. They fought all the time, every chance they got. They never held grudges, though – well, hardly ever. The occasional incident that really got under their skin was expected, but being the amazing friends that they were, they were able to look past it within a few days, or weeks, if it was really bad. She was always there for him, in that sense. When he was worried about Quidditch (or she, about OWLs) they would bicker, just to get their minds off of their individual, yet equally important, impending dooms.

He suspected that they would be bickering quite a bit, now that they were sure the Final Battle was rapidly approaching, and it was putting a great weight on their shoulders.

Though he tried to never discuss Harry with her, as he felt it was a nasty thing to do and that he was going behind his friend's back, he did voice his concerns occasionally. It occurred very rarely though, only when his head was particularly full of thoughts and he needed to articulate some of them, or risk his brain exploding from over-use.

Now was one of those times.

'Hermione?' whispered Ron. She stayed perfectly quiet, most likely trying to make him think she had fallen asleep. 'I know you're awake ... in fact, I'd be willing to bet a large amount of Galleons that you're reading _Hogwarts:A History_.'

He heard her sigh with contempt before saying, 'Yes? What do you want?'

He frowned. This was not how he wanted to start their conversation. He was going to be serious and voice his concerns to her. He was going to get personal, something that had rarely happened before in his life.

'D'you think this'll be our last adventure together?' He tried to put it as delicately as he could, while still managing to get his point across. It wasn't the type of thing he just wanted to blurt out, being as blunt as possible. He didn't think asking her if she thought they'd all be killed in the same tone he'd ask her to pass the pumpkin juice was appropriate.

'What do you mean, Ron?' she asked, seemingly more interested. 'Do I think we'll split off and go our separate ways once we're through with V–Voldemort? Or do I think one of us will die in the process?'

'The – the second one,' he feebly muttered. She said nothing for a moment, considering what he had asked.

Her answer finally came, in the form of a short and firm, 'No.'

'No?'

'No. I don't think this will be "our last adventure together," as you put it,' she stated. He rolled over to face her, and found her watching him. The way the light of her wand hit her face made her look exceptionally lovely. He was suddenly very aware that he was alone in his bedroom, in the middle of the night, with her. He was also aware that he could legally do magic, so there would be no trouble casting a Silencing Charm ... if they needed it.

'Why not?' he asked, as he forced himself to forget the wanton thoughts he was having about his best friend.

'Because,' she explained, 'it just can't be. We've been through far too much for something stupid like this to tear us apart.'

'This isn't something stupid, Hermione,' lectured Ron. 'You-Know-Who's a scary wizard. And, while his real job is to kill Harry, he'll have no problem killing us, as well.' He sighed. 'I dunno what I'm getting at. I guess what I'm wondering is: D'you ever feel like the next fight might be your last? I mean, we've been lucky so far. We've escaped without anything too serious happening. What if our luck has run out?'

She climbed out of bed, shuffled across the room at sat on the edge of his. He sat up and shifted his legs, which were in danger of being sat on, to make room for her.

'Ron,' she said, taking his hand in hers, 'everything is going to be fine.'

'How can you be so sure?' he asked, seeking reassurance, although the feel of his hand in hers made all his worries disappear entirely.

'The way I see it, we've been friends forever,' she smiled. 'Sure, we only met in our first year, but it feels like I've known you – and Harry – my whole life. You're like family to me.' Ron's heart sank, though he wasn't completely sure why. 'Well,' she said quickly, '_you're _not like family.' He couldn't help but notice the way she accented "you're" and the funny way it made him grin like an idiot. 'But you know what I mean.'

'Yeah, I do,' he admitted.

'So you see, what the three of us have here is a _lifelong _friendship. We'll be with each other until we're all old and grey. I can just feel it,' she continued, her eyes twinkling in the light still coming from her wand. 'There's no way something bad will happen, and we won't get the chance to find out if my theory's right. There's just no way.'

It was hardly the answer Ron was expecting from her, but it made him feel good, just the same.

'You can always do that, you know.'

'Do what?'

'Act as if the problem in front of you – no matter how serious or complicated it may be – is just another textbook question. You can handle anything I throw at you,' said Ron. She beamed up at him, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. 'How can you do that?'

'Well, I've thought about it a lot myself,' she admitted. 'Being Harry Potter's best friend is a dangerous job, you know. It's not like we aren't targets, too.' Ron opened his mouth to protest but she continued quickly, 'Not that I'm complaining, or anything. I make an effort to be involved. I try hard to help Harry, and not because I feel obligated to in any way. It's just that sometimes, to an outsider's perspective, you and I are guilty by association.' She paused. 'I often wonder what it would be like it I lost you – or Harry – during a battle. And frankly, I don't think I'd be able to handle it. Just _thinking _about it used to give me butterflies,' she said. 'So I convinced myself that everything would be okay, because if I couldn't believe that, I think I would have gone nutters a long time ago.'

'Wow,' he said dimly. 'I try not to think about stuff like that, but sometimes I can't help it. You're basically the only one I can talk to, though. I can't say anything to Harry, he'd just feel guilty and act like it's his fault, when it isn't. None of my brothers would understand, and the twins would just make fun of me. And Mum would go mad if I brought it up around her or Dad.'

'You're the only one I can talk to, too. None of my family understands anything about what's happening in the wizarding world right now. In fact, I haven't really even told my parents about last year, at the Department of Mysteries. They know the general story, but I kind of skipped over the part about my serious injuries ... and the fact that Sirius –'

She stopped abruptly, and Ron nodded, thankful that Harry wasn't there. He was fairly certain Harry was okay with it by now, but he didn't want to push it.

'So, anything else you'd like to throw at me?' she asked.

Well, I'd like to throw you down on this bed and snog you until Mum calls us down for breakfast in the morning, Ron thought.

'No, can't think of a thing,' he replied, smiling and hoping she wouldn't notice how red his ears were turning.

'Okay, then. Goodnight.'

'Goodnight,' he said. Before he realized what he was doing, he kissed her lightly on the forehead. She acted like it was no big deal; perhaps she was too shocked or embarrassed to mention it, because got back into Harry's bed without another word and immediately blocked out the light of her wand.

Apparently, Ron thought with a smirk, Hermione didn't need to read in order to have pleasant dreams tonight.

……………………………………………………………


	3. Cleaning, Snogging, Discussing

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**Chapter Three: Cleaning, Snogging, Discussing  
**……………………………………………………………

The next morning was beautifully executed, Hermione had to admit. Ginny crept into Ron's room bright and early, around half six.

'Hermione,' she said quietly, 'wake up.'

When Hermione stirred, the first thing she saw was Harry, rubbing his eyes and yawning like an idiot. He was grumbling something about just wanting to go to bed, and threatening Ginny by saying, 'you better hope I'm able to get back to sleep, Gin.'

Hermione sat up and looked toward the window. Sun was creeping in through the shades. She turned her attention back to Ginny, who was already fully dressed.

'What is it?' she asked.

'You have to get up and come to breakfast with me, so Mum doesn't go looking for you and find you in Harry's bed,' the youngest Weasley explained.

Hermione imagined the many different scenarios, and the even more abundant conclusions, that could be drawn from Ron and Ginny's mum finding her like this.

Would she naturally assume that Harry had banished her here, so he could be with Ginny? Or would Mrs Weasley think that she and Ron had masterminded it all? Even funnier than that last one was the thought that the reason Hermione had spent the night in Harry's bed had something to do with a steamy love affair between her and the 'Chosen One', and that the rumors written by Rita Skeeter in their fourth year had been true.

'Oh, right,' she said, throwing the covers off of her and scrambling to her feet.

'Finally,' mumbled Harry, as he flopped down face-first onto his rightful bed.

Ginny rolled her eyes and him and threw a quick glance at her brother.

'Thanks for last night ...I didn't plan on us falling asleep,' said Ginny, but Hermione felt sure she was lying. 'I hope my brother wasn't too much of a prat about it.'

'No, no, he was lovely,' said Hermione. Once the words left her mouth, she wished she had used another adjective to describe Ron. Why couldn't she have just said "fine"? What in the world made her say "lovely"?

'Ron? Lovely?' Ginny gave a laugh of disbelief. 'Hermione, I thought you knew by now that it is next to impossible for those two words to appear in the same sentence.'

Hermione blushed, and looked away, hoping her friend would take pity on her and not mention anything else concerning the redhead sleeping but mere feet away.

The room fell into silence for a moment, before a muffled snore rang out. Ginny giggled and pointed to Harry.

Hermione stared at the boy incredulously. 'I take it Mr Potter found sleep rather easy to come by?'

'You think _that's _bad? At least the pillow is taking most of the damage this time. I slept beside that all night! I must have fallen asleep first, or else there's no way I would've let him stay,' Ginny laughed.

Hermione sniggered and sucked in a breath when she thought she heard footsteps approaching. After a few seconds of silence, both girls listening intently, Ginny shook her head, signalizing that she evidently thought the coast was clear. 'Well, shall we leave our boys alone, then?' asked Ginny.

She nodded, relishing the fact that Ginny had called them _their _boys. Ron was not Lavender's boy, he was hers. He had always been hers. It was just nice for that fact to finally get some recognition.

Wait – where did that come from? Did she really feel that way? Did she feel that Ron was her territory, and no other girl had any right to be trespassing? There had always been something between her and Ron, she wouldn't deny that ...but to go so far as to say she wanted Ron to be hers? That was definitely something new.

They had been best friends for ages. Sure, throughout that time, she had had the occasional thought about what it would feel like to be his girlfriend. Those thoughts were mostly centered on fifth and sixth year, of course, but Hermione thought they were perfectly normal for any male/female best friendship.

She had always known that Ron was funny and nice and, most of all, cute, but she never gave it any further thought until the Yule Ball incident. She remembered complaining to Ginny about him, saying that he was an overbearing prat. Ginny had just rolled her eyes and said, 'If you can't tell, he's bloody green with envy over that Krum fellow. I bet he's kicking himself for not asking you to the Ball when you were available.'

That had been the first time she had truly looked at Ron in an objective way. Once she thought there was a tiny chance that he might have feelings for her – feelings that went past the "friendship zone" – she was forced to re-evaluate her own feelings. Suddenly, the cute boy with dirt on his nose (for when she thought of Ron, Hermione had always conjured up the image of him on their first ride to Hogwarts) had become slightly taller, considerably cuter, and even more funny and nice.

The chance had been gradual, no doubt, but to Hermione, it seemed almost overnight. Ever since that moment, she began noticing more and more things that she liked about Ron. She liked the way his hair was getting to the length where it still fell into his eyes ...no matter how many times he brushed it away. She liked how loyal he was, always risking his neck for Harry. She melted at the way he said her name, the way he was so protective of his sister, the way he used the occasional bad word – even though she _was _offended, on some level, she had come to expect it from him, and would even go so far as to say it was part of his character. And she certainly liked his character.

She liked the way he thought she was brilliant, and the way he told her so all the time, even through simple gestures, instead of coming right out and saying the words. She liked the way he made her feel, the way he served as her inspiration when things got stressful or particularly nasty. She still, to this day, appreciated the way he backed her up when she suggested Harry be the leader of the DA. She enjoyed watching him get defensive about Quidditch, but enjoyed the sparkle in his eyes when he talked about the Chudley Cannons even more.

Most of all, she liked it when they rowed. Hermione was a passionate person. She cared deeply about things like S.P.E.W., things that Ron couldn't understand. And when they fought, they truly went at each other. They said terrible things, shouted at the top of their lungs, didn't speak for days. She'd never admit it, but it was part of the reason she felt so close to him ...so attracted to him.

When she finished showering and dressing, she went downstairs to the kitchen.

'...Yep. Hermione just had a bit of a lie in. She should be down soon,' explained Ginny. She, Charlie, Mr and Mrs Weasley were already up and about.

'Morning, all,' greeted Hermione. Mrs Weasley smiled at her from the stove. 'I take it the boys are still asleep?'

'Naturally,' Ginny laughed. 'Honestly, they don't wake up until Ron smells food.' Hermione read the _Daily Prophet _and chatted with the others for another half hour before Fred and George came downstairs. Mrs Weasley smiled at them and served breakfast.

'I know it's a little early to be eating,' she said, 'but we have a lot to do today. The wedding is happening very soon, and as it's to be held here, we'll be cleaning the inside of the house today.' The twins groaned in protest.

'Mum, that sounds lovely,' Fred began.

'Unfortunately, we're very busy today,' said George.

'What with the shop and all,' continued Fred.

'Business is booming, you see,' explained George.

'So we really can't stay long,' Fred concluded.

'Oh,' said Mrs Weasley. 'You boys are really doing well with that store of yours, then?' Fred and George nodded; their mouths were full of food. Mrs Weasley narrowed her eyes at them, waved her wand, and their food disappeared. 'Then perhaps you should feed yourselves.'

……………………………………………………………

'Bloody dirty trick that was,' Fred mumbled as he scrubbed the floors. Ginny laughed. As part of their punishment for saying some not-so-nice words at breakfast, they were forbidden by their mother to use magic while cleaning.

'You missed a spot,' she teased, pointing to a random part of the floor.

'Ginny!' her mother called. 'Stop bothering your brothers and get in here!'

'Yeah, go find Ron and bother him, instead,' ordered George.

Ginny stuck her tongue out at her brothers and skipped out of the room. She went up the stairs and into the sitting room. Inside were Hermione, Ron and Harry, looking around, and Mrs Weasley, enchanting the cloths to dust the tables and the carpets to float to the backyard and shake themselves out.

'Well, don't just stand there. Go upstairs and straighten up the kids' bedrooms. Two of you can go up into the attic, too,' instructed Mrs Weasley.

'Mum, why do we need to do this? It's not like the guests at the wedding will be inspecting our _attic_. I think our bedrooms are safe too, y'know,' groaned Ron.

'Okay, then,' Mrs Weasley began, 'don't think of it as preparing for the wedding. Think of it as cleaning the house that you all live in – _for free – _as a favour to your dear, sweet Mum.'

'Honestly, Mum, what are we? House elves?' Ron asked, earning him a slap on the arm from Hermione.

Ginny giggled silently at her brother's expression and lead the way up the stairs, trying to block out Hermione's ranting about S.P.E.W. They began in Fred and George's room, deciding that all four of them would need to work on it together before splitting off into groups. Hermione was exceptionally cautious, not wanting another black eye anytime soon. Ginny was on guard, hopefully looking to find anything that would alter her appearance, knowing that _Phlegm _would go ballistic if she was disfigured for the wedding. She chuckled to herself at the thought.

Ron and Hermione whipped out their wands while she and Harry sat on the bed, playing with Nosebleed Nougats, Fainting Fancies and Blood Blisterpods. They collectively decided that the Puking Pastilles wouldn't be the best choice to play around with, as it would only lead to a larger mess that Ron and Hermione would be forced to clean. Then again ...Ginny thought that was a smashing idea.

She looked up at Harry, who was now staring off into space, his brow furrowed. His deep, green eyes were fixated on a spot on the ceiling. He absentmindedly ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Ginny could hardly contain herself. The feelings she had for the boy in front of her were overwhelming.

She fancied Harry Potter, sure, but that didn't even begin to describe it. Perhaps, by the time the summer was over, she would love him. Even better, maybe he could love her back. The thought of Harry saying those three words, even now, made her heart beat a little bit faster.

Could it be that she already loved him? It was hard to sort out your feelings for someone when you're around them all day, everyday. She was in that in between stage, where you feelings are stronger than "like" but not quite "love". Maybe he was there, too?

She couldn't take it anymore. He was far too sexy for his own good. And the fact that he wasn't even _trying _to be only strengthened her attraction to him. She threw a glance over her shoulder at Hermione and her brother, neither of which were paying any attention to her. Smirking to herself, she put her hand on Harry's inner thigh. He broke out of his trance and his eyes darted from her to Ron and back again. She leaned forward, shifting her weight to her hand, and kissed him full on the lips.

He hesitated, obviously very aware that her brother was simply a few feet away from them, and liable to turn around at any minute. When Ginny finally felt him kiss her back, she pulled away a bit. He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and desire. She squeezed his thigh seductively before sitting back firmly on the bed, at which time Hermione turned around and gave them a questioning look after seeing Harry's flushed expression.

Ginny turned to look at her and shrugged, as if to say, 'I don't know what his problem is.' Hermione cast them a suspicious, disapproving look, then went back to cleaning.

Ginny turned back to Harry, who was grinning and shaking his head. She made a face at him and smirked, daring him to do something other than look at her like a bumbling idiot. He raised his eyebrows, rising to her challenge, but not before casting a final, fleeting glance at Ron. Ginny leaned forward and kissed him again. Harry grabbed her body and pulled her closer, so she was sitting in his lap.

What the hell Ron and Hermione could've been doing for them to not notice her and Harry snogging right in front of them, Ginny would never know. Maybe they were committing their own act of indiscretion?

Just as Ginny pushed him away and climbed off him, Ron turned around and gave the room the once-over. Satisfied with their cleaning attempts, he shrugged and put his wand back in his robes. Hermione followed suit, and motioned for Harry and Ginny to move, because they were done in the twins' room. The four friends wandered into the hall and looked at each other expectantly.

Ginny and Harry exchanged significant looks.

'Um, I guess I'll take the attic,' he mumbled before leaving the hallway.

Ginny waited until he was out of sight before she said, 'I think I'll go help him...the attic is a big job for one person.' Ignoring Hermione's attempts to catch her eye, she turned her back to them and followed the path Harry had taken moments ago, up to the attic of the Weasley house.

……………………………………………………………

Harry waited for what seemed like hours. He was almost positive that she wasn't coming, that Hermione had clued in and now the three of them were arguing about his relationship with Ginny.

He heard footsteps. It was Ron, he was sure of it. Ron was coming to kill him, all because he snogged his sister. It wasn't even his idea! She had orchestrated the whole thing ...he had accepted that breaking up meant no more snogging, but she didn't want that. He didn't _want _it either, mind you, but it was different because he wasn't going to do anything about it.

The first thing he saw was flaming red hair, but the rest of the body quickly appeared, and it was undoubtedly Ginny. She climbed the final few stairs and entered the dark, dusty attic, looking around for him. Harry darted out of his place, his teenage hormones getting the better of him, and pushed her against the wall, attacking her neck.

'That –' he kissed his way up to her face and across her jaw 'was –' he captured her lips, pressing her ever harder against the wall of the Weasley's attic 'cruel.'

Ginny's hands quickly found their way into his hair, pulling him closer, crushing their lips together. Harry was struggling to keep his cool – being like this with Ginny was a lot to take. He cupped her bottom, giving it an affectionate squeeze. She moaned in his mouth, her tongue working furiously against his own. Harry's stomach did a flop as she gave a small hop and locked her legs around his torso. She untangled one hand from his messy hair and ran it over his chest.

'Cruel, yes, but you liked it,' Ginny said breathlessly, their faces still inches apart.

'Damn right, I did,' agreed Harry. 'But still ...in front of your brother! What were you playing at?' If they had been caught (which Harry was surprised they hadn't been) there was no telling what Ron would have done. Probably hexed him into oblivion, and Harry didn't even have legal magic to defend himself.

Ginny shrugged. 'Dunno. I just really wanted to kiss you. Is that so bad?'

'No, it's not bad at all. But in front of your brother, who will literally murder me if he catches us, it definitely is.' He paused and sighed. 'Maybe we shouldn't be doing this. Like I said before –'

'No, I don't want to hear it. I haven't forgotten what you said back at the funeral, I know that you think it's too risky to be close to me,' said Ginny. 'But Harry, you're close to me now, and nobody's in danger.'

'I can't do it, I thought you understood that. I'm not the one I'm worried about here,' he said. 'If it was only me who could be hurt or put in danger, I wouldn't think twice about us. But I refuse to voluntarily give Voldemort a reason to target you. I care too much about you to let anyone do that.'

'You care about Ron and Hermione, but you aren't stopping them from being involved in this battle!' complained Ginny. 'Why can't you give me the same treatment?'

'Because you're different, Gin. They've been with me from day one, and I know they won't take no for an answer, no matter what,' Harry explained. 'They've already been exposed, they've been targeted and everybody knows that they're with me. The Death Eaters know who they are, and that they're both threats. You don't have that connection yet, they have no reason to want you dead, too. I can't have you involved.'

'Incase you haven't realized, I'm already involved. I've been involved since my first year at Hogwarts!' Ginny argued. 'I was down in that Chamber of Secrets, too, you know. I'm not afraid to say Voldemort's name ...he knows me personally by now, I expect. I was at the Department of Mysteries, I fought the Death Eaters, and they all know who I am. They know me, they know Neville, and they know Luna. It isn't your fault,' she reassured, 'but we're just as involved in this now as they are. I've faced Voldemort before, as Tom Riddle, and that's a lot more than I can say for my dear brother or Hermione. I made it out; I can make it out of this, too'

'First of all,' Harry began, 'the Chamber of Secrets? You're really including that in your argument? You were eleven and a bloody diary possessed you! You made it out, yes, but only because Ron and I went down there to save your arse. You were passed out on the floor when I found you ...you were hardly holding your own.' He tried to stay serious, but he couldn't help smiling. He had expected as much from her. He knew she was stubborn and that she would fight with him. When she conceded to his decision about why they had to break up, she was simply saving up her words for when they were alone and she could be loud without causing a scene, particularly if it meant ruining Dumbledore's funeral. 'And second, yeah, you were at the Department of Mysteries, but not because I wanted you there. I'm not saying you weren't useful, because you really were, but I still regret endangering you like that. You can't be sure the Death Eaters remember you from that night or, more importantly, that they would want you dead because of it. We just can't be together right now.'

Ginny laughed, and shook her head. She was angry, it was obvious, but she didn't pull away or tell him to put her down. She just stared at him, her face still inches from his, her legs wrapped tightly around him, arguing her point.

'I've idolized you since I can remember; I always knew, somehow, that I would meet you and you would fall for me,' she giggled. 'I had a mad crush on you all through Hogwarts, but you know that, of course. I only went out with Michael and Dean because I figured you'd never be interested. And then you were, and I finally got to date the famous Harry Potter – the "Chosen One" – the Boy Who Lived.' Harry frowned. Why did she say it like that? Was that all she cared about – after all they had been through? 'Only I didn't want the famous Harry Potter, the one who survived the Killing Curse when he was but a baby. I wanted you, Harry, the sweet boy who spends the summer at my house and hangs out with my obnoxious brother; the one who always stands up for what he believes in and tries to do the right thing, no matter how distorted his image of "the right thing" may be.' She smiled softly, her eyes sweeping over his features before resting on his eyes once more. 'That's all I ever wanted. I wanted you, not the hero who vanquished Voldemort as an infant. But you just couldn't figure out a way to separate those two.'

'What are you saying?' asked Harry, setting her down on her feet. Ginny sighed and put her hands on his shoulders, forcing eye contact again.

'Voldemort has done a lot to you ...so many terrible things,' she said calmly. 'He's taken so much away from you. He's taken your parents and your godfather; he's taken your privacy, your _right _to a normal life.' She narrowed her eyes at him. 'But if you let your obsession with him screw things up between us – if you let him take yet another thing away from you – then you aren't the wizard I thought you were.'

'Gin...' Harry began. He didn't want to get into this with her, not again. It was hard enough the first time, when he ended things. He couldn't do it again.

She gave him a defiant look. 'Give me one good reason,' she requested. 'One reason why we can't be together like we both want to be.'

'My parents are gone. I couldn't do anything to save them,' Harry said through gritted teeth. He wasn't angry at Ginny, he was angry with Voldemort – angrier than he had ever been before. He knew Ginny was right, but he couldn't let her know that. 'But I'll be damned if I let him take you away, when there _is _something I can do about it.' He sighed. 'You don't understand. It's much more complicated than you imagine it to be.'

'It's not complicated at all!' protested Ginny. 'You know what your problem is?'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me.'

'Your problem,' she said, scowling at him, 'is that you always need to be the hero. And no matter how many times we tell you that, no matter how many times we insist that you aren't in this alone, you don't listen. You look at the world and think every little problem is yours to solve, when it isn't! Whether it's going protecting the Philosopher's Stone or going into Chamber of Secrets to "save my arse", you always need to save someone – even when they don't need to be saved, like in the Triwizard Tournament, like at the Department of Mysteries ...like _now_.' Her gestures were wild and her breathing was coming out in pants, but she had tears in her eyes and a soft, serene expression on her face. She was clearly having a battle inside herself, as to whether or not she should even be continuing this discussion. 'You aren't alone in this. You don't have to carry this burden. Why won't you let me help you fight?'

Harry didn't even flinch when she mentioned Sirius and the Department of Mysteries. If it were anyone else – Ron and Hermione included – he would have blown up and stormed off, but for some reason, it seemed okay when Ginny talked about it.

He walked away from her, his mind racing. He had to tell her. Maybe she'd finally understand, finally let up and respect his decision. He was scared of telling her though, scared that she would react badly.

'You want to know why?' he snapped, spinning around to face her again. She looked slightly taken aback, but nodded silently. 'The prophecy says that it can only be me. It says I'mthe one who has to do it. I'm the one who _can _do it. Not you, or Ron, or Hermione – me. It's up to me. So forgive me, but I don't see the urgency in dragging you into the middle of this when it doesn't concern you in the least!'

'It does concern me! I don't care if – wait – you heard the prophecy? I thought it smashed!'

'It did, but Dumbledore already knew what it said. He told me at the end of fifth year,' Harry admitted. Ginny raised her eyebrows. 'Basically, it said that Voldemort was to mark someone an equal –' he pointed to his forehead 'and that I apparently have a power that Voldemort doesn't, and it'll help me get rid of him. It said that neither can live while the other survives.'

Ginny gaped at him with wide eyes. The room was dead silent; neither of them uttered a word for several minutes.

'Neither can live while the other – so ...you have to kill him?'

'Yep,' Harry shrugged. 'Or he'll kill me.'

Ginny smiled. 'Then all the more reason for us to be with each other. Look, Harry, I'm not going to pretend that you defeating Voldemort will be a piece of cake, because we both know it'll be the hardest thing you ever do. But I believe in you, and I believe that if there is anyone who can do it, who can get rid of him, once and for all, it's you,' she said. 'Back at Hogwarts, you said you wished we had gotten together sooner and that we hadn't wasted so much time. Well we're wasting even more time now! I want to be with you now, not in a year, or ten, or twenty.' She walked over to him and took his hands in hers. 'The way I see it, we've got nothing to lose but each other.'

'You don't even know that it'll be me who survives,' he told her. 'Maybe I won't. Maybe Voldemort will live. Maybe, if we are open about us, and I die, he'll come after you. I won't be there to protect you if that happens,' he whispered.

'Did you ever stop to think that I don't need your protection? I may not be brave like you or brilliant like Hermione, but I'm rather tough in my own way,' she insisted. Her eyes glistened with fresh tears. 'And if that does happen – which, by the way, I refuse to believe that it will – then we'll have missed out on the opportunity to be together, permanently.'

'I guess, but –'

'No buts, Harry.' Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting go of his hands. 'I really, really like you, but you and I both know that I'm not a patient girl. If you're asking me to wait for you, to wait until all this Voldemort business is over and done with, I'm sorry but I won't,' she concluded. 'It's now or never, and while I don't think I could quite handle you choosing the second option, I respect your right to pick it. I mean, maybe you no longer feel the same way –'

'You're bloody mad, if you believe that! I – I dunno what to say. Obviously, I feel the same about you, but ...' Harry sighed. 'Can we not talk about this now? How about you give me some time, to see if I can come up with something, and we'll talk about it at Bill and Fleur's wedding?'

Ginny looked down at the floor and nodded. 'I guess that's okay, then.'

'So,' proposed Harry, 'shall we get to cleaning?'

'We could,' Ginny smiled. 'Or ...'

……………………………………………………………

When Ron climbed into the attic, Hermione behind him, he found a rather strange sight before him. Harry and Ginny were quickly moving in opposite directions, both out of breath, both flushed slightly. Wow, he thought, they must be working really hard to clean the attic.

'Oh, hey,' said Ginny. 'We were just –' she looked around and pointed to a big, old wardrobe 'trying to move that.'

'Really?' asked Hermione, from behind him. Ron turned around to see her looking around wildly. 'This place doesn't look too clean. What have you been doing all this time? Ron and I have already finished tidying all the bedrooms, you know.' She shot his sister an accusing look.

'Well, unlike you two –' Harry looked from Hermione to Ron and back again '_we_ don't have the privilege of using magic to do our work.'

'That's right,' Ginny backed him up. 'Harry won't be of age for another week, and I won't even be _sixteen_ until August.'

Ron sniggered. 'That's right, mate. Almost forgot you were just a silly little sixteen-year-old,' he said and Harry rolled his eyes.

'Ron, one again, you're as thick as ever,' Ginny muttered.

'Oh? And why is that?'

'No, I won't say. Let's not rehash _that _fight,' said Ginny. Ron folded his arms and stared blankly at her, urging her to continue. 'Harry might be a few months younger than you,' she explained, 'but he's far more accomplished. He's played on the Quidditch team since your _first _year –' she raised one finger 'he was Triwizard Champion –' she raised a second 'and he's snogged more girls,' she finished. 'So before you go making fun of him for only being sixteen, perhaps you should consider his experience in specific areas, versus yours.'

'Snogged more girls, has he?' Ron said, his ears turning a slight pink.

Ginny nodded. 'Yep.' Ron shot Harry the death glare, remembering the fact that he had snogged his baby sister – a lot.

'I've snogged just as many girls as him,' Ron boasted, standing a bit taller. Hermione gave him a sideways glance.

'Who, other than that cow Lavender?' asked his sister. Ron briefly wondered how he got into that discussion, before racking his brain for a name. Since they mostly likely weren't going to return to Hogwarts anytime soon, he could say whoever name he wanted, and they would never know if he was lying or not.

'Parvati,' he lied.

'Liar!' Hermione exclaimed.

'How would you know?'

'Because,' she began, 'I've shared a room with her and Lavender for six years now, and they talk about that sort of stuff all the time. Never once has your name been thrown into the mix – at least not by Parvati.' She smiled smugly, having effectively proven him wrong, like always. 'Well, except once when she asked me if we've ever –' She broke off and looked away.

Hermione just have Ron a brilliant idea. He looked over at Ginny and Harry (both were putting forth tremendous effort in trying to contain their laughter) and walked over to his bushy-haired friend. Putting one hand behind her head, he pulled her closer and crushed his lips against hers.

Hermione didn't seem too shocked; Ron assumed she had figured out his intentions when he started walking toward her, and for an instant, he was sure she kissed him back. She recovered after a few seconds – much too quickly for Ron's liking – and pulled away slightly. He was lost in her warm, chocolate brown eyes. He breathed in her scent – strawberries and something else, something he decided was purely Hermione. She opened her eyes and bit her lip in an act that, to Ron, seemed like she was trying to restrain herself from kissing him again. If that was truly the case, he wished she would just give into temptation and lose herself in him, like he was lost in her. Someone cleared their throat to their right, startling them both.

Smirking proudly, he turned to Harry, who was unsuccessfully trying to hide his grin, and Ginny, who was too shocked by her brother's boldness to do anything but stare, slack-jawed, at him.

'What d'you say, Gin? Are Harry and I about even now?'

……………………………………………………………


	4. The New Member

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Thanks so much for the feedback! I love you all : )**

**Chapter Four: The New Member  
**……………………………………………………………

'Would it be okay if I borrowed Pig for a while? I need to send a letter,' Hermione explained. Ron didn't look up from the chessboard he and Harry were currently playing on.

'Sure, whatever ...if it's to Neville or Luna, tell them hello for me,' Ginny said from her spot on the floor, where she was half reading her book and half watching the chess game.

'For me, too,' said Harry.

Ron attempted to block them out, trying his hardest not to come out of his own little world and lose his focus. Looking at Hermione is exactly the type of thing that could cause that. It had been three days since their kiss, and neither of them had brought it up yet. He doubted that they ever would.

'It's neither of them, actually,' she admitted. 'But I'll still put it in, if you'd like.' Ron glanced up at her and saw the hint of a smile tugging at her full, luscious lips. Shit. He had no hope of focusing on chess now, not after seeing that skirt she was wearing! Blimey, when had Hermione gotten such a good body? He noticed, over the years, that ..._certain_ things had developed, but he never remembered her looking like that.

'Who're you writing to?' he asked curiously. She blushed. Ron thought she looked exceptionally stunning when she was embarrassed.

'Nobody, forget I said anything. I can use Pig though, yeah?' Before getting a definite answer, she turned around and scurried out of the room. He and Harry exchanged confused looks before Harry nodded. Ron got up from his chair, telling Ginny she could finish up the game for him, and followed Hermione.

'Hermione!' he called. She was instructing Pig, who was flapping around enthusiastically, on where to bring the letter, and chose to ignore him. 'Hermione!' he yelled again. She opened the window and let the hyper owl flew away.

'Yes, Ron? What do you need?' she asked.

'You didn't answer me ...who're you writing to?' She looked away, averting his eyes.

'I told you ...it's nobody,' she shrugged. After a few minutes of silence, Hermione, sensing that he wasn't going to leave her alone until she confessed, said, 'Don't get mad, okay? I was writing to Viktor.'

'WHAT! VIKTOR KRUM? WHY?' bellowed Ron. Hermione glare at him, her anger level rising.

'For your information, Ronald Weasley, I can write to whoever I want, whenever I want, for whatever reason,' she said angrily.

'Not Krum, you can't! What do you see in that git, anyway?' questioned Ron.

'He isn't a git. He's very polite and respectful, which is more than I can say for you,' she snapped. 'And I don't "see" anything in him. He and I are just friends, how many times do I have to tell you that?'

'You sure weren't "just friends" with Vicky when you snogged him though, were you?' Ron argued. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

'First of all, his name isn't _Vicky_, it's Viktor! Secondly, _he _snogged _me_, and I only let him because I was absolutely furious with you at the time,' she stated indifferently. 'And you're one to talk! Heard from Lavender since school's been out?' she asked, tauntingly.

Ron blushed and broke eye contact. 'Um – er – no,' he stammered. He didn't want to admit that she'd sent him almost half a dozen letters, to which he had no reply.

Her features twisted into an expression of irritation and nervousness. 'Don't lie,' she said quietly. 'I don't care if you've been owling her. Are you two back together?' She tried to make it sound like question, but Ron thought it sounded more like an accusation.

'Merlin, no!' Ron exclaimed. 'She's sent me a few letters but I haven't – I haven't answered her,' he said.

'Why not? That's terrible, Ron, even if it _is _Lavender!' He couldn't help but laugh at her pseudo-outrage. 'Get some parchment and write her back this instant,' she ordered.

Ron felt himself getting angry again. Not at Hermione, for bossing him around, because he was used to that. He was remembering the things his ex-girlfriend had written in her letters, and all the vicious things she had said about Hermione.

He shook his head furiously. 'I wouldn't write that girl back for all the gold in Gringotts!'

'Ron! That isn't fair. You might not want to get back together with her, but you should at least reply to her letters and say hello,' insisted Hermione. He shook his head, adamant about that particular matter. 'Look, I know she can be a little ...hard to take, at times,' Hermione began. Ron rolled his eyes. 'Alright, alright, she was down-right _annoying_. In fact, if I heard her say "Won-Won" once more, I might have hit her. But in any case, you still dated her, so you owe her the follow-up courtesies.'

'No.'

'Why not? You can be so stubborn sometimes, you know that? Just write her back!'

'I SAID NO! I refuse to ever communicate with her again, until she apologizes for the nasty things she said about you!'

Hermione looked shocked. 'What kind of things?'

Don't make me get into this, Ron silently pleaded with her. He didn't have the heart to tell her all the spiteful things Lavender had written. He still felt bad for their first year, when he had called her a nightmare and caused her to hide in the bathroom and cry. How terrible would he feel now, about this? '_Bad _things,' he said. 'And then,' he continued, 'she had the nerve to hint around about the wedding, trying to get me to ask her to be my date!'

Hermione scowled. 'Goodness, no! I think I might strangle that cow myself if she were here for a few days. You said no, right?' she asked nervously.

'I didn't even answer her, but I would've said no. When I didn't answer her third letter, she went off on me about you _again_, insisting that the only reason I wasn't writing her was because _you _weren't letting me,' he explained. 'She seems to think I've replaced her with you, and that we're having some sort of ...sordid love affair!' Hermione laughed out loud.

'She's clearly out of her own head. Write her, tell her there's nothing going on with us, and maybe she'll calm down a bit,' Hermione suggested.

'No,' said Ron, shaking his head again. 'I'm sorry, I can put up with a lot from her but I'm not going to let her say those things about you!' He looked around, checking to make sure nobody was listening, and whispered, 'She called you a scarlet woman!'

'Lavender said that? Isn't she the girl who practically shagged you in the middle of the common room every night?' Hermione asked bitterly. Ron flushed and looked down at his feet.

'Hey, I never said she was right,' he defended himself.

'Of course you didn't, I'm sorry,' she apologized. 'I think it's really sweet that you got so defensive over me, but I don't want to ruin your relationship. She's just jealous – wouldn't you be, if she was spending the whole summer with another boy?'

'No,' Ron insisted. 'I wouldn't be, because we aren't together. She isn't the one I want to –' he stopped and inhaled sharply. 'I mean ...I don't care if she's jealous or not because it's over between us. This isn't solely because of you, you know.'

'I know,' Hermione said softly. Ron chewed his lip, debating whether or not it was a good time to ask her. They had just finished rowing, true, but they had also cooled down and were on good terms again. He figured he might as well go for it.

'Er – Hermione, I – er – I was thinking ...since we never got to go to the whole Christmas party thing with the "Slug Club", maybe we could – well, if you want to that is – maybe we could, uh ...'

'Ron?' she said quietly, almost so quietly that he barely heard her. He looked up from the carpet and his eyes met hers. 'If you're asking me, the answer is yes, but you'd better do it soon before I reconsider,' she teased. 'I'm sure Viktor would love to come ...'

'D'you want to go to the wedding with me?' he blurted out quickly, before she could finish her thought about Vicky.

'Love to,' she smiled. Ron grinned back at her. He thought about what she had said, about writing Lavender, and got a devilish idea.

'Maybe I _will _write Lavender back,' he said as they walked back to the drawing room, where he had left Harry and Ginny. 'And I'll be sure to tell her all about the fun you and I are going to have at the wedding.'

……………………………………………………………

Harry was having a hard time concentrating on chess.

Firstly, there was the matter of his two best friends, who were clearly oblivious to the other's feelings. Harry used to be concerned that Ron and Hermione getting together would make him the third wheel, but he had thought about it quite a lot lately, and he had grown accustomed to the idea of his friends finding happiness in each other. If something _did _happen to Harry during the battle with Voldemort, he at least wanted them to have each other.

Secondly, he was sitting a mere foot away from Ginny, who smelt heavenly. Every time he took a breath in, his nostrils filled with her scent – was it perfume, or was it natural? His head was spinning when he felt something lightly brush against his leg. At first, he assumed it was Crookshanks, but after a while, it moved under his trousers and further up his shin.

He glanced up at Ginny, who was smiling deviously at him. He raised his eyebrows but she continued to move her foot higher up his leg. He cleared his throat.

'Gin, they're going to be back any minute now,' Harry warned. As if on cue, the sounds of Ron and Hermione's shouts filled their ears. Ginny got up off her chair and crept out of the room, returning seconds later with a soft smile on her face.

'Viktor Krum and Lavender,' she reported. 'We've got loads of time before they finish rowing.' She sat down on his lap and kissed him, her tongue immediately probing his mouth.

Sometimes, Harry hated growing up. It meant having to deal with change, having to mature and face tougher obstacles that before. It meant the death of loves ones and even the closing of Hogwarts. It meant the end was near and the Final Battle with Voldemort was even nearer.

But other times, like now, Harry loved it. When he was little – for some strange reason – he didn't think snogging girls was appealing. And now, around Ginny, it was all he could think about. In the previous summers spent at The Burrow, the house was filled with people. You couldn't get a moment of peace or time to yourself. Now, Bill was about to have a wife, Charlie was as absent as ever, Percy was gone, Fred and George had their own flat, and Mr Weasley was working more and more. That left Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron (and Mrs Weasley, of course) alone to do whatever they pleased.

When they broke apart, Harry rested his forehead against Ginny's and said, 'You know, I'm beginning to think you like the idea of being caught.'

'I've always enjoyed the thrill that goes along with sneaking around,' she laughed. 'Why d'you think I used to steal my brothers' brooms when I was little? It wasn't because I dreamed of the day I could join the Quidditch team at Hogwarts.'

Harry laughed and kissed her again.

Moments later, Harry thought he heard footsteps approaching. Ginny flew off of him and sat back down in her own chair, hastily ordering the move of a chess piece, just as Ron and Hermione entered the room, chuckling.

……………………………………………………………

'So, Harry, your birthday is soon,' said Hermione as she and Ron re-entered the drawing room.

'Yep,' he said, smiling at Ginny as the chess piece she moved was smashed by one of his.

'What d'you want to do for it?' asked Ron.

'Nothing,' he answered. 'I don't want to make a big deal of it.'

'Harry, you'll be seventeen! It _is _a big deal!' Ginny exclaimed. 'Don't you want to have a big party with all our friends or anything?'

'No, I don't want to impose on your family,' Harry said. 'Besides, whose parents would allow them to come?' Ron shrugged and sprawled out on the floor.

'Okay, but we're still going to celebrate,' insisted Ginny. 'It'll be fun ...just the four of us.'

'Well, what about everything Sirius left you? Are you going to stay at Grimmauld Place?' Hermione inquired. She didn't particularly enjoy the thought of Harry living alone in his godfather's old house.

Harry shook his head. 'No. I told Dumbledore last year that the Order could keep using it as their Headquarters if they wanted, because I didn't want it.'

'Speaking of the Order, what will they do now that Dumbledore's gone?' asked Ron. 'Wasn't he their Secret Keeper?'

Hermione nodded. 'Yes, he was. I suppose they'll have to get someone else now.'

'But who?' Ginny asked.

'Minerva is the new Secret Keeper,' Mrs Weasley said, entering the room.

'Professor McGonagall?' Harry asked.

'Brilliant,' Hermione beamed. Professor McGonagall was a very valuable member of the Order. Hermione was sure she would be excellent as the Secret Keeper.

'Yes, I thought so, as well. Anyway, Harry, Professor McGonagall is downstairs. She wishes to speak with you about –' Mrs Weasley looked around at her children and Hermione uneasily and lowered her voice 'Order business.'

……………………………………………………………

'Hello, Potter, sit down,' Professor McGonagall said when Harry went down into the kitchen. He pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table. Professor McGonagall remained standing, looking down at him. 'I'm sure Molly has informed you that I am the new Secret Keeper for the Order of the Phoenix?'

'Yes, she did, Professor,' answered Harry.

'Excellent, excellent. Since you're the new owner of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place –'

'– I already told Professor Dumbledore that the Order could still using it as Headquarters –'

'– I'm here, requesting permission to continue using it,' said Professor McGonagall, completely ignoring Harry's interjection. 'I'm perfectly aware that of what you told Professor Dumbledore, but as newly instated Secret Keeper, I felt it my duty to ask you again.'

'Oh – er – thanks. You can use it,' mumbled Harry. McGonagall took a seat beside Harry at the table.

'There is one other matter that I wish to discuss with you,' she said quietly. 'You're going to be of age in a few days time, is that correct?'

'Yeah. Three days,' said Harry.

'And I'm sure you're aware that Hogwarts will most likely _not _be re-opening its doors any time soon?'

'Yes, Professor.'

'Yes, well, that is why I'm really here. You see, we, the Order, would like you to become a full-fledged member,' announced McGonagall.

'What?' Harry gaped at her. 'As in join the Order?'

'That's exactly what I mean, yes,' said McGonagall. 'But of course, you won't be any ordinary member. You will have numerous Aurors at your disposable for your ...missions.'

'You mean the Horcruxes?' Harry blurted out. McGonagall nodded.

'I had a conversation with Albus's portrait recently, and he told me what you two had been doing that night,' she said sadly. 'I imagine that you plan on continuing?' Harry nodded. 'I cannot let you do it alone.'

'I won't be alone,' insisted Harry. 'I'll have Ron and Hermione with me.'

McGonagall stared, studying him. Harry was sure that she was about to forbid him from bringing his friends into this, like she had done several times in the past.

'And while the three of you are incredibly talented and have survived countless obstacles in the past,' she began, 'I trust that you would appreciate the extra backup?'

'Yes, we would ...very much.' Harry didn't know what to say. McGonagall usually attempted to talk him out of fighting and being where the action was. And now, she was not only giving him her permission, but she was offering reinforcements.

'This is not an easy subject to approach, Potter, but it is in regard to Lord Voldemort.' Harry nodded, urging her to continue. 'You are not a child anymore. I daresay you are a man, a wizard, and a great one at that. Surely you realize that the Final Battle is approaching, and it is only a matter of time now?'

'I know, Professor.'

'When the time comes, you will be in charge,' she stated. Harry stared at her as if she had three heads. 'You will give the orders and have complete control of the missions.'

Harry sat there, trying to process all of the new information he was receiving at an alarming rate. He was joining the Order ...andhe was going to be in charge? 'Wow. Um, thank you?'

'This is a lot of responsibility, I know, but don't let it go to your head. I trust Albus Dumbledore wholeheartedly and he held a great deal of confidence on you. I'm counting on you. Do not screw this up.'

Thanks for the vote of confidence, thought Harry.

'I won't,' said Harry. McGonagall stood up.

'Very well. I must be off, but tell Molly that the next Order meeting will be on the thirty-first of July.'

'Will I be attending?' Harry asked.

'Heavens, no,' barked McGonagall. She leaned in close to Harry. 'That is your birthday, a day that may very well be your last day of freedom. Be with your friends, have a childhood ...for once in your life.'

'Thank you. Um, will I be able to attend the meetings after that?' inquired Harry.

McGonagall nodded and said, 'Yes, yes, of course. In fact, it would be most suitable if you were to come to Grimmauld Place straight away the next morning, so one of the members could bring you up to speed.' She put on her traveling cloak and went to leave.

'Professor?' Harry called as she made to walk out the door. She turned to face him. 'Would it – er – is it okay if I told Ron, Hermione and Ginny?'

'If I told you no, would you truly keep the information from then, anyway?' McGonagall smiled. 'Go ahead, Potter. If they are to play important parts in the missions you will be organizing, as I suspect that they will, they should be properly informed.'

'Right, thank you. Goodbye.'

Harry lingered in the kitchen for a moment before climbing the stairs back to the drawing room. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Mrs Weasley were all in various spots around the room, waiting for him.

'Well?' Hermione said anxiously.

'Mum says there's a new member to the Order. Who is it?' asked Ginny. Harry looked at Mrs Weasley, who winked and nodded.

'It – It's ...me.' Hermione and Ginny gasped, while Ron yelled 'bloody hell', earning a glance from Mrs Weasley. Everyone stared at him in shock. 'Well, what d'you think?' asked Harry.

Ron grinned. 'Blimey, Harry! You're going to be in the Order!'

……………………………………………………………

**Review!**


	5. The Birthday

**Disclaimers: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. **

**Chapter Five: The Birthday  
**……………………………………………………………

'What do you think about Harry?' Hermione asked, two days later.

Ginny gave Hermione a curious look. 'Um, I think he's brave and funny and –'

'No, no, I mean in regard to him joining the Order. What do you think about that?'

'I – I don't know. I suppose it's a good thing. He's really excited about it, and the Order sure could use him,' said Ginny. 'It'll be dangerous, yes, but I think he can do it.' Hermione considered her.

'Aren't you scared ...for him?' Hermione asked.

Ginny didn't know how to answer. She would be lying if she said the thought of Harry leaving her didn't give her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was still afraid that he would die, but she wasn't betting that Voldemort would be the one to do it. She knew Harry, and if there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that he'd never give Voldemort the satisfaction of killing him. But then again, would Harry's pride hold up against someone as evil and powerful as Voldemort? He had killed other wizards who were far more powerful than Harry Potter. His luck could only hold out for so long...

A new wave of anxiety washed over Ginny as she imagined a life without Harry Potter. 'No,' she said, hoping Hermione didn't notice the slight shaking of her voice. 'I know that Harry has to fight Voldemort, I've accepted that. We all just need to stay positive.' She sighed quietly and looked out the window of The Burrow, into the backyard. Harry, along with Ron and the twins, was currently working up quite a sweat, de-gnoming the garden for the wedding.

'Well, yes, but what about everything else? We have to survive the missions ...we have to get the Horcruxes, before Harry can even _begin_ to think about Voldemort.'

Ginny nodded solemnly. She had been told all about the Horcruxes, and what they did, the night McGonagall visited. She was disappointed to hear Ron, Hermione and Harry talking about missions and how they'd go off to fight side by side. Ginny would, of course, be left behind. She always was.

She would've been frantic with worry for the three, having no idea what to expect on their search for the remaining Horcruxes, but she didn't give herself time to really think about it. Her fury overrode any other emotion when she imagined the three of them on another one of their special, golden trio adventures. She was angry that she wouldn't get to come along, and that she would, yet again, have to miss out on the fun because she was too young. She didn't understand it. Harry had been doing dangerous things since his first year at Hogwarts, and Ginny wasn't even allowed to leave her house, because she was _only _sixteen.

'I'm not worried,' Ginny said confidently, perhaps more confidently than she felt. 'Speaking of Harry, what are we going to do for his birthday tomorrow?'

Hermione contemplated the younger girl's question. 'Your parents have to attend an Order meeting tomorrow night, and I don't expect we'll be left alone here, so I'm not sure. We might have to go with them, to Grimmauld Place.'

'That'll be horrible!' Ginny exclaimed. 'We need to convince Mum to let us stay here.'

Hermione nodded. The two girls refocused their attention to the backyard, where the boys were still working, now shirtless due to the almost unbearable heat.

'When are you and my brother going to get together?' asked Ginny. She didn't want to embarrass her friend, but it was ridiculous to watch the two of them together, completely oblivious to the other's advances.

'Excuse me? I don't know what you're –'

'My arse you don't know,' said Ginny. 'You two couldn't be more obvious about your feelings if you tried.'

Hermione blushed. 'Oh, and I suppose you and Harry aren't bad either, then?' Ginny's smile faded. 'That's right, I know what's going on with you two. I'm not stupid, you know,' Hermione said matter-of-factly. 'That day in the attic was completely tactless.'

'Shut up,' Ginny hissed, turning a bright red. 'You've got to watch what you say around here. You never know who's got an Extendable Ear.'

'Everyone is outside,' explained Hermione. 'And if your mum was listening, she would've busted in here the second the words left my mouth.'

'We weren't doing anything in the attic,' she lied. 'We – er – we were running away from that awful ghoul that's up there.' Hermione raised an eyebrow and folded her arms against her chest, clearly not buying into Ginny's story. Defeated, Ginny sighed and said, 'We aren't talking about it until the wedding.'

'Why? If you're together, why wait until the wedding to announce it?' Hermione asked clearly not grasping what Ginny had meant. 'Your brothers won't mind and your Mum will be thrilled.'

Ginny looked down at her hands. 'We – we aren't exactly d-dating,' she admitted. 'That's what we need to talk about at the wedding.'

Hermione gasped quietly. 'Okay, so you aren't dating –' Ginny shook her head 'but you ...what are you doing, exactly?'

'I don't even know.' She looked back out the window and watched Harry. He was laughing at something, probably the twins. Ginny thought he looked amazing when he smiled. 'But you know what? I don't particularly care.'

'What do you mean?' inquired Hermione. 'You two snog but you don't date? And you don't mind?'

'Pretty much.' Hermione cast a disapproving look. 'I know that I sound like a slag, but I'm not! I've really fallen for that stupid boy,' Ginny said laughingly. 'He doesn't want to be open about our relationship because of, you know, Voldemort. This is the only way ...for the moment.' While Ginny didn't entirely believe her words, she said them anyway, hoping Hermione would buy into them.

'I love Harry like he's my brother,' said Hermione, 'but it sounds a bit ...dodgy. Is he taking advantage of you?'

Ginny giggled in disbelief. 'Merlin, no! If anything, it's the other way around,' she said, and gave another small laugh after seeing her friend's look of utmost shock.

'Ginny! Do you – what kind of – why are you doing this?' she sputtered.

Ginny sighed and her expression turned serious. She didn't take her eyes off of Harry, who, along with Ron, was making a game of who could throw their gnomes the furthest. 'Look at him down there. Look at how happy he is,' she said. 'If we're going to be perfectly honest here, I don't know how long that will last. As much as we try to avoid talking about it, Hermione, it's getting closer.'

'What is?' Hermione asked, though Ginny got the distinct impression she already knew the answer.

'The battle. I know what the prophecy said, and I know that it would be foolish of me to expect Harry to come out on top,' said Ginny. Hermione turned her attention away from the window and refocused it on Ginny, but the redheaded girl continued to stare at one Harry Potter. 'Unless you know a place where we can get loads of Felix Felicis for free, so we can give it to everyone before the battle, we're going to lose some people ...maybe even Harry.'

Hermione sucked in a breath and Ginny pulled her gaze from Harry to study her friend. She looked positively mortified, as if she had never even considered the possibility of losing Harry before.

'Yeah, maybe we'll get lucky and it won't happen, but there's a good chance that it might. I don't know what's going to occur, but I know that if Harry dies, I'll always regret not being with him when I had the chance. I have that chance right now, and I'm taking it,' she explained.

'But Ginny –'

'What if it was Ron?' Ginny asked. 'What would _you _do?'

……………………………………………………………

'Huh?' Hermione said, flushing. 'Ron and I aren't –'

'Bloody hell, Hermione, give it up,' Ginny sighed, throwing up her hands. 'I don't care what you say. You fancy my brother just as much as he fancies you. I won't tell anyone, but you might as well admit it.'

Hermione looked around the room, her eyes coming to rest on the redheaded boy in the backyard. His stature had changed since she had last seen him shirtless, two summers before, at Grimmuald place, where she had accidentally walked in on him changing. He had developed muscle, but Hermione doubted it was from Quidditch. The duties of the players didn't really require a strong upper build, in her opinion. They mostly needed to grip the broom and not fall off. Balance and coordination were key, yes, but not necessarily muscle. So where had he acquired it? The thought of Ron alone in his bedroom, doing pushups, was oddly enticing to her.

'I suppose so,' she confessed, turning a slight scarlet.

'It's about time you admitted it,' said Ginny, beaming. She turned serious again. 'Now, pretend that Ron was The Boy Who Lived, pretend it was _you_ who was in love with the "Chosen One". What would you do, if you were me?'

Did Ginny say she was in love with Harry?

'I – I don't know,' admitted Hermione, looking at her hands. 'It would be a terrible situation to be in. I expect I'd be a worried mess ...' But would she do the same as Ginny was? Would she really be able to be with Ron, without at least being considered his girlfriend? Sure, she had kissed Viktor Krum once, when she was fifteen, but that didn't count. The only other person she'd ever kissed was Cormac, and they had been together, at least for a little while. She and Ron had kissed as well, but Hermione didn't count those. A peck on the cheek before a Quidditch game, a kiss on the forehead before bed, and a kiss in the attic to prove a point didn't mean anything to her. 'I still can't imagine ...'

She saw a flicker of annoyance on the other girl's face. 'And you don't have to worry about it,' Ginny said, her voice oddly shaky, 'because it's only a hypothetical question. But it's real for me and Harry. We didn't ask for these circumstances, but we've gotten them anyway, and we have to deal with them somehow.'

'Ginny, I understand, but –'

'No, save it,' Ginny yelled, standing up. 'You can't possibly understand. You might've been the cleverest witch at Hogwarts, but this isn't something you can learn from a book! You don't know anything when it comes to love! You don't get it. You don't know what I feel like right now, and I pray that you'll never have to find out, because it sucks.' With that, she stormed off, leaving Hermione alone to contemplate what had just happened.

Hermione wasn't used to being told she didn't understand something. She especially wasn't used to it being the truth. She wanted to understand, but maybe it was best that she didn't ...kind of like the time she wished she had been able to see Thestrals.

Sighing, Hermione got up and climbed a flight of stairs, up to Ginny's room. She knocked lightly on the door.

'Gin? Can I come in?'

'Yeah,' Ginny said quietly. Hermione walked in and looked at her friend, who was lying flat on her bed and staring up at the ceiling. 'I'm sorry for yelling like that. I'm just very ...frustrated right now.'

Hermione sat on the edge of her own bed, which was on the other side of the small room. 'You were right. I don't know what it feels like to be in your situation. I imagine that it'd be terrible ...never knowing if his next fight will be his last.'

'It is, but it's not even that. It wouldn't be so bad if I were at least coming with you to the fights, because then I'd know what was happening,' explained Ginny. 'Since Mum makes me stay behind, I have to picture the battles in my head and every time I try to see it ...it's so horrible and I go crazy with worry until you three are safe again.'

Hermione didn't know what to say in response. 'Perhaps you'll be allowed to come this time ...after all, you're much older now, and you're a clever witch.' Ginny snorted. 'You don't need to worry about us so much, you know.'

'I can't help it,' she said. 'I've worried about you lot since my second year, when everyone at Hogwarts thought that Sirius was a murderer and the three of you chased after him and Peter Pettigrew.'

Hermione was about to respond when the sound of Mrs Weasley calling 'Dinner!' reached her ears and she and Ginny – both hungry from a hard day's work of cleaning and tidying – rushed to eat.

……………………………………………………………

The first thing Harry heard the next morning was the screeching of two loud female voices exclaiming, 'Happy birthday, Harry!'

Groaning, Harry pulled his blankets up over his head, desperately trying to return to the state of sleep, one that he could feel rapidly slipping away. He heard footsteps beside him and the distinct sound of curtains being opened. He shut his eyes tighter, trying to block out the sunlight that was streaming in through the bedroom window.

'Hurry up and get out of bed!' came the unnaturally chipper voice that could only belong to Ginny.

'Bloody hell, Harry, just get up and get her out of here!' Harry heard Ron yell, somewhere to his right. 'Ginny, you're my sister and I love you, but I need my rest and I won't hesitate to hex you this instant if you don't leave us to our sleep.'

'Come along, Ginny, I'll take care of these boys,' Hermione said laughingly. The next thing Harry knew, he was hanging upside-down from the ceiling by his toe, as was Ron. Ginny had collapsed on Harry's bed in a fit of giggles and Hermione was trying desperately to contain herself, as well.

'I thought you didn't approve of this spell?' Ron barked, who was blinking like mad against the invading sunlight. 'You sure yelled at Harry enough when he used it!'

'That doesn't mean I didn't make the effort to remember it, incase you two gits ever needed the extra ..._lift _out of bed,' she laughed.

Harry scowled, trying to ignore her clever pun, and threw her a pleading look. 'Hermione, do whatever you'd like to Ron, but give me a break ...it's my birthday!'

'Traitor!' yelled Ron.

Hermione appeared to consider his plea and dropped him onto the bed. He landed on top of Ginny, who was more startled than injured. 'Get off the poor girl and go clean yourself up. Mrs Weasley is waiting for you downstairs, and while it is your birthday, I am under strict orders to do whatever is necessary to get you moving this morning.'

Harry uttered another groan before lifting himself off of Ginny and helping her up. 'Alright there?' he asked.

She nodded and threw a quick glance at her brother before giggling and saying, 'we'll leave you two alone.'

Hermione smiled but said, 'Nonsense.' With that, she dropped Ron onto his bed and scurried out of the room after Harry and Ginny.

When Harry descended down the stairs and entered the kitchen, the two girls in tow, he was bombarded by redheads. 'Happy birthday, Harry, dear!' Mrs Weasley yelled as she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, after which, Fred and George rushed over and clapped him on the back. Bill, who was still in town on official Order business (which Harry was excited to discover he would soon be informed of and participate in) lingered behind for a moment, waiting for the mob to clear, before greeting him in a way similar to the Fred and George's. After wishing him a happy birthday, though, Bill said goodbye and Disapparated out of the kitchen.

The six (seven, once Ron finally accepted defeat and got up to embrace the day) of them had a nice lunch around the kitchen table, before giving Harry his gifts. He got an assortment of pranks and other devious and fascinating products from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, courtesy of George and Fred; a rather heavy book entitled _Defense Against the Dark Arts Volume IV: Ancient Curses and How to Deflect Them _from Hermione; a large box of chocolate frogs and other treats from Ron; an interesting Quidditch book from Ginny; and a knitted jumper from Mrs Weasley.

'Thank you,' Harry said bashfully, 'but you really shouldn't –'

'There's one more thing,' Molly said, jumping to her feet. She smiled excitedly and pulled out her wand. 'Arthur wanted me to wait until tonight to give you this one ...but I can't! I hope he'll understand,' she laughed. 'Is it alright with you, Harry?'

Harry looked at the other five, wondering what the woman could be going on about. 'Um, sure.'

'Excellent!' She waved her wand toward the clock on the wall and two more hands were added, one of the hands reading _'Harry' _and the other reading _'Hermione'_ in fancy inscription. Both immediately pointed toward _mortal peril_, something Harry could've done without, but it was the thought that counted and the thought was not lost on him.

Harry smiled at the woman who had become somewhat of a mother to him over the past seven years. From sending him jumpers on Christmas to inviting him into her home, she was always warm and loving. He felt a pang of loss in his gut as he wondered – perhaps for the first time – how different his life would be if he still had his rightful mother. He had pondered this question over and over, but never in regards to the Weasleys or Hermione. If he had arrived at school that first day at Hogwarts without a scar and with parents waiting for him to return for Christmas and summer holidays, would he have befriended Ron? Wasn't it Mrs Weasley's mothering appearance and Ron's friendly (if slightly twitchy and removed) company at King's Cross followed by Hermione barging in on them that began the trio's friendship? If Harry had arrived with his own parents, knowing perfectly well how to make it onto the platform, would he have been the same to Ron and Hermione, and all the other friends he had made throughout his time at Hogwarts? Or would he have taken Malfoy up on his offer, and joined his ranks? Would he have even been offered a spot in Malfoy's group, if he weren't The Boy Who Lived?

He had always thought that he wouldn't trade his friends for anything, but would he trade them for his parents? Would he trade them for the chance to be a faceless nobody, instead of the "Chosen One"?

The answer used to be simple, black and white: YES. But now, the lines had blurred and he wasn't so sure what he would do. He was positive he wouldn't willfully let go of his parents, but he didn't want to think about all the people he'd have lost if his parents _hadn't _been killed. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. His parents were dead. They weren't coming back, and he didn't need to worry for no reason.

For the first time in Harry's life, he felt content with the circumstances under which he had been placed.

'Mrs Weasley, I –' He fell silent, at a loss for words. He would never be able to express his gratitude for the woman who took him in, nurtured him, and had not once rejected him, though he landed Ron and Ginny in more dangerous situations than he could even count. Through it all, she loved him as if he were her own son. Harry, who, ironically, had been saved sixteen years ago by the power of his mother's love, had never been touched by that particular emotion since. There was no love at the Dursley house, and no matter what terms they had left on, Harry was not anxious to ever return to Privet Drive. He didn't harbour any fondness for Little Whingingin any way, actually.

He looked at Hermione, hoping for some help, but she had tears in her eyes as she stared at the clock. She rose from the table and hugged Mrs Weasley tightly. Harry, deciding this was a good idea, followed suit.

'Thank you so much,' said Harry, 'but you didn't have to –'

'Oh, hush now,' said Mrs Weasley, 'you're my son, Harry.' Harry simply nodded as she turned on Hermione. 'And I know that you already have a family, dear, but you've still got a place in ours. Always. Both of you.' Molly took out her handkerchief and her watery eyes met Harry's again. 'You're a grown wizard now, and – and –' she looked down at her hands before giving a melodramatic sniff and rushing around to clear the dishes. 'You lot've grown up too bloody fast,' she sighed.

Fred grinned and said, 'Now, now, Mum –'

George, whose swig of pumpkin juice apparently went down the wrong way, choked out, 'Don't get your knickers in a twist –'

'You'll always have Georgie and me –'

'We're the best of the bunch, y'know.'

As if on cue, there was a small explosion from upstairs, which, Harry guessed, was a result of the twins. They exchanged fearful looks before mumbling something about getting back to the store and Disapparating before Mrs Weasley could stop them.

……………………………………………………………

'Did you hear that, Ron? Hermione's family now,' Ginny beamed as the four entered the drawing room, minutes later. She and Harry exchanged amused looks. 'I suppose it was only a matter of time before it happened ...one way or another.'

'What do you mean by that, exactly?' asked Hermione, shooting Ginny a warning look.

'Oh, nothing, just that I figured you'd be married into the family before you got officially added to the Weasley clock,' laughed Ginny. She looked at Ron who was seething at Ginny's comment.

'Marry into the family?' asked Ron. 'Hermione, you didn't tell me you were dating one of my brothers.'

The busy-haired girl laughed and rolled her eyes. 'Oh, didn't I? Percy and I are actually having a double-wedding with Bill and Fleur, I thought I told you. I've always thought he was the most attractive of you lot.'

'What! You think _he's_ attractive?'

'Relax, Ron, I'm only joking.' When Ron gave a feeble laugh and started to change the subject, she added, 'Of course he isn't. I've always fancied Bill ...though Charlie's no troll, either.'

After Ginny's fit of giggles ceased, she choked out, 'Now, now, Hermione, don't talk about my brothers that way. They're yours too, after all. _All_ of them.'

Hermione's face held a rather curious expression for an instant before replying. 'If you're right, then I guess Harry's kind of like another one of your brothers.' Ginny scowled and shot a nervous glance at Ron, who seemed oblivious to anything, while Harry gave his friend a questioning look, and a nervous realization dawned on him when Hermione winked in return. 'So,' she said, clearing her throat, 'I trust you'll be taking your Apparition test soon, now that you're seventeen?'

'Yeah, I guess I will. When are you taking it again, Ron?'

'Dad's taking me in about a week. You're coming, right?'

Harry nodded. 'Maybe you should consider shaving your eyebrows for the test, so there's no chance of leaving them behind,' he joked.

Ron gave him an unappreciative look. 'When do we begin looking for Horcruxes?' he blurted out.

'As soon as possible,' said Harry.

'As soon as possible, _after _the wedding,' corrected Ginny. 'I'll hex all three of you if you leave me here alone to deal with Phlegm.' Harry laughed, but Ron shook his head and muttered something.

'Maybe you'll be able to come with us,' Hermione suggested hopefully, earning her dirty looks from both Harry and Ron.

'She most certainly _won't_ be coming,' her bother insisted.

'Why not?' Ginny demanded.

'Perhaps you don't understand how dangerous this is, but it isn't some silly game where I'll be able to protect you from getting hurt,' he said.

'I don't need you to protect me, Ron!'

'Yes, you do!'

'No, I DON'T! How d'you know you'll be any better than I would be? The only one of us who knows what a mission is like is Harry! Or are you just assuming that you'd be better, because you're a male?'

Hermione and Harry remained silent, knowing better than to get in between the two when they fought. They exchanged slightly worried, slightly entertained glances when both Weasley children got to their feet and started yelling in each other's faces. Harry briefly wondered if Mrs Weasley would bother putting a stop to their arguing, or if she was so used to it that, by now, she merely turned a deaf ear.

'I'm not basing any of this on me being a male, Ginny! I'm a better fighter than you, that's what I'm basing this on. Hermione's not a male, y'know, and she's coming,' Ron bellowed.

'Good of you to finally notice my gender,' Hermione said dryly, getting a nasty look from Ron and an amused one from Harry.

'Excuse me – you're a better fighter?' Ginny asked, incredulously.

'You're damn right I am!'

'That's funny, because – now, I might be wrong here – but I distinctly remember you yelling something along the lines of _'Accio brain'_ at the Department of Mysteries!' scoffed Ginny. 'A load of good you did that night! Who was the one fighting on their broken ankle and who was the one playing with _brains?_'

'That wasn't my fault!' argued Ron. 'And I think that I did pretty well at Hogwarts last month.'

'I did, too!'

'You're still not coming!'

Ginny turned to regard Harry. 'Aren't you going to say anything?' she asked.

He looked from one sibling to the other, unable to determine where his true loyalties were. He agreed with Ron, he didn't want her there, but she did make a point when she said she's a good fighter. A battle was waged between his head and his heart, and he didn't know which one he wanted to prevail. He opened his mouth to speak, but firmly shut it again and looked to Hermione for assistance.

'Don't look at me,' she said, 'this is your call. You're the one in charge.' He made a mental note to remember for later that he wasn't speaking to Hermione.

'I ...I don't know,' he stammered, averting his eyes from all three friends. He didn't want to have this particular discussion and, hoping to draw some sympathy from the fact that it was his birthday, he said, 'Can't we talk about this later?'

'All you ever want to do is put things off and deal with them later!' Ginny growled; her eyes alive with fury.

'What's that supposed to mean?' he yelled.

'You know what it means!'

Now, it was Ron's turn to sit back and watch the events that unfolded. The expression on his face told Harry that he had no idea what they were going off about, but he now knew that Hermione had been brought up to speed.

'Ginny –'

'Save it, Harry,' she sighed. She marched over to the door and, before leaving, muttered, 'Happy bloody birthday.'

……………………………………………………………

The dinner that night, with Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Arthur and Molly was uncomfortable. Ron was not speaking to Ginny, Ginny was not speaking to Harry and Harry briefly attempted to not speak to Hermione. All that could be heard was the clattering of plates, loud chewing and the occasional haughty sigh.

'Any big plans, now that you're of legal age, Harry?' Mr Weasley inquired after dinner that evening.

Mrs Weasley firmly stated, 'He's staying here, of course. Harry, I wouldn't dream of letting you return to those horrible Muggles – and oh – the thought of you at Grimmauld Place is far too unsettling.'

'Thanks, really, but I was actually thinking of spending a little time in Godric's Hollow before I settled down anywhere,' Harry said.

'Oh,' Molly said evenly, her features calm. Harry couldn't figure out her true thoughts on the matter. 'Yes, well, you know there will always be room for you here, if you want to come back.' She glanced up at the wall and Harry followed her gaze, looking happily at the clock in front of him. This was, by far, one of the prouder moments in his life. It was better than the feeling of catching the snitch during a Gryffindor game against Slytherin. It was better than sending Lucius Malfoy to jail and it far surpassed his kiss with Cho Chang. This moment was right up there with seeing the DA members' improvements and kissing Ginny after they won the Quidditch Cup. Just as Harry was about to thank them again, Fred and George appeared in the middle of the kitchen.

'Anyone fancy a game of Quidditch?' George asked.

'Absolutely not,' Mrs Weasley said sternly. 'No child of mine will be outside, flying around in the open, during times like these.' Harry saw Hermione beam as Mrs Weasley regarded both she and Harry as 'her children'.

'Molly,' Arthur said, not looking up from his edition of the _Evening Prophet_, 'it's about time now. We should go.'

'Right,' she said, not turning away from the kids. 'There's an Order meeting at Grimmauld Place tonight, so you lot have two options: You can either come with us to the meeting, or I'll stay here and watch you.'

Harry felt that both options were a bit extreme, but said nothing. Ginny glanced at him, looking outraged and embarrassed that her mother would even suggest such a thing, and said, 'Oi, Mum, Harry doesn't want to spend his seventeenth birthday at an Order meeting, even if it _is _in his own house.'

'Then I suppose I'll stay here. Arthur, you can go on both of our behalves.'

'Why?' asked Ron.

'You aren't old enough to stay home alone ...not under these circumstances!'

'Mum, Fred and I are nineteen, and all of us are legal but Ginny; we can manage things while you're gone!' George yelled.

Fred added, 'If something happens, George, Hermione and I can Apparate –'

'And Ron, Ginny and Harry can do Side-Along-Apparitions –'

'So go on, get to your bloody Order meeting –'

'The ones we _still_ aren't allowed to attend –'

'Because everything will be fine over here,' Fred finished. Molly Weasley looked at the children, obviously debating whether to remain at The Burrow or attend the meeting.

'Honestly Mum, if You-Know-Who wants to bust in here and kill Harry, it won't make any difference whether you're here or at the Headquarters!'

'_George_!'

Mrs Weasley looked uneasily at them, and turned to her husband. Arthur Weasley glanced up from his paper and raised his eyebrows. 'I think they've all proven that they can handle it, Molly. Actually, if anyone will need protecting, it'll probably be Fred and George,' he chuckled.

'That's true,' she agreed. 'They haven't even graduated from Hogwarts.'

'It's like we're not even here,' Fred muttered. He waved his arms wildly, trying to get his mother to look at him, but it was to no avail.

'And actually, Mum, we came a helluva lot closer to graduating than these ones did,' George reminded her, gesturing toward Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Ron.

Molly waved them both off and sighed. 'I suppose we'll be alright by leaving them here,' she said to Arthur.

Arthur turned to the kids. 'Remember the rules: Don't let anyone inside without the secret question; don't go outside for any reason; don't let Ginny use magic; don't let Fred or George use their products –' (these last two were instructed to Hermione) 'and if there's trouble, you all get out as quickly as you can – don't stay and fight.' Harry couldn't help but notice the way Mr Weasley's eyes lingered on him slightly longer than the others when he said that.

A few minutes – and many promises to stay out of trouble – later, Molly and Arthur left. Fred and George turned to regard the others with satisfied smiles on their faces.

'Right, well, who wants to test some of our products?' Fred asked.

Hermione gave them a look.

'Okay, okay. How about we order up some – er – _exotic _dancers for the birthday boy?' George suggested.

Ginny gave them a look.

Fred grinned. 'Alright, then. Where does everybody stand on Firewhisky?'

……………………………………………………………

**Thanks for reading, don't forget to review!**


	6. Firewhisky

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Six: Firewhisky  
**……………………………………………………………

Hermione was drunk.

If someone had told her a year ago that she and her friends would be at The Burrow, absolutely smashed, she wouldn't have believed them.

When Fred had suggested Firewhisky, she immediately thought to turn it down. She had felt herself kick back into "Prefect Hermione" mode and confiscate any alcohol the twins might have had, before she had realized that they weren't at Hogwarts, and they weren't breaking any rules. Everyone was of legal age, and they were all supposed to be celebrating Harry's birthday. Well, perhaps Ginny wasn't of legal age, but Hermione knew that if the rest of them had drunk, it would've taken quite the effort to stop her from doing the same.

She had been rather curious, she had to admit. She had never had so much as a drop of Firewhisky before. She had no clue what it would taste like or feel like, or even how she'd react to it. It would be good research, she had told herself. She had known that the others all wanted to have some, being that the boys had often made remarks about trying it and Ginny just had a knack for disobeying the rules.

She had agreed, and now, she was having an absolutely wonderful time. Everything seemed so much better when inebriated. Hermione found things she never used to find funny – like the fact Crookshanks's face was almost completely flat, or the way the mirrors in the house could have a conversation with you – utterly hysterical.

She felt a certain lightness in her stomach and a giddiness that had not been there before. She was hyper, and was considering talking the others into a long midnight fly – perhaps even to visit Hogwarts.

She stood from her seat and walked across the room to Harry, wobbling slightly on her legs as she did so. She plopped down on the couch beside him and smiled dimly. Ginny was on the other couch, thoroughly examining a button, and Ron was chasing Crookshanks ('Oi, what a pretty thing! Come here!') He finally yelled out _'Accio Crookshanks!' _and the ginger-haired cat flew into his outstretched arms. There was a momentary lapse in time as she, Harry and Ginny (who had dropped the button behind the couch and had given up trying to retrieve it) watched the scene before them. Ron teetered dangerously on his legs as Hermione's cat squirmed and fought against his embrace, finally succeeding in getting free – but not before scratching Ron's right arm.

'What a strange man,' Ron muttered, watching as Crookshanks tore out of the room as fast as his four legs could carry him.

Fred and George appeared in the room, more Firewhisky in hand.

'Happy birthday, Harry,' George said, raising his glass.

Fred laughed breezily and said, 'We'd better make this a night to remember –'

'Because once Mum gets home –'

'We're all in for it.' Hermione giggled as they proceeded to toast Harry, take two long swigs apiece, and burp. Fred looked around at Ron, who had joined Ginny on the other couch. 'Is Ickle Ronniekins a little drunk?'

Ginny was clutching her sides with laughter and stood up quickly – perhaps too quickly – before falling back down onto the couch. 'Y'know where we should go?'

'Where?' inquired Harry.

'We should go to Diagon Alley – no, we should go to Hogsmeade – _no, _we should visit Hagrid!' exclaimed Ginny.

'Hagrid's a funny bloke,' said Harry. 'Awfully tall, too.'

'Well, his father was a goblin,' Ginny said. 'That explains it. All goblins are – oh, wait, that's not right ...' Hermione laughed and tried to picture Hagrid as a half-goblin.

Ron stared at his sister and grabbed a strand of her hair. 'You have the strangest colour hair I've ever seen,' he announced. Harry snorted and Hermione bit back another laugh, staring at the two. They had the exact same shade of red hair.

'Now would be the perfect time to test out our new Giggle Gaggers and Somersault Sallies, wouldn't you say, Fred?'

'Definitely. We mustn't forget about the Tangerine Tarts or Jumping Jack Juice either.'

'Barking Blips are in order, too, I'd say.'

The twins left and Hermione stared, wide-eyed, at the place where they had just stood. 'Was it just me, or could you see more than one of that man, too?' she asked.

……………………………………………………………

Harry stretched out on the sofa and watched as his three friends bounced their way around the room. Ron had (by Harry's count) just done three-hundred jumping jacks while Ginny was somersaulting around the room. Hermione was in stitches, nearly passed out on the floor, where she was rolling around and laughing hysterically, for no apparent reason. Every now and then, the chortling would stop and would be replaced with a series of barks.

He briefly wondered why he was acting so normal, if the rest of them, who had had just as much to drink as he did, were acting in such a manner. Then he saw Fred and George standing a couple feet away, each with a notebook, documenting everything. He laughed and vowed that he wouldn't eat or drink anything either twin prepared for him.

He thought that perhaps he should take some of Fred and George's products, and join in on the fun. It _was _his birthday after all, and everyone else was having a much better time than him. After Hermione choked out, 'Ouch – help – me – I – can't – stop', amidst another fit of giggles, he concluded it was more painful than it looked, and he was glad to stay away from the twins.

'Maybe you should help her?' he slurred, looking at Fred.

He exchanged an innocent look with George – or maybe it was the other way around, Harry was having trouble distinguishing who was who. 'What makes you think _we're _involved?'

Harry stared incredulously at them and quickly glanced back at his friends. He noticed that he was seeing trails. 'Hermione's barking,' he stated blandly, looking back at the twins.

'Alright, alright. I suppose we've gotten enough research done for tonight,' the twin on the left said, sounding defeated.

'You're lucky it's your birthday, Harry, or we would've slipped you something that made your skin turn orange and lasted twenty-four hours,' said the twin on the right.

'Yeah,' said the one on the left, again, 'we took pity on you. Ginny, on the other hand, will be in a right state tomorrow when she wakes up.'

'With her temper –'

'Not to mention the fact that it'll clash horribly with that Weasley hair of hers –'

'I, for one, am glad I won't be sticking around.'

Harry watched Ginny as one twin held her down (she was desperately fighting against them, trying to somersault) and the other shoved a pill in her mouth. Within seconds, she stopped fighting and looked around at Ron and Hermione.

'Wuzzgott'n inna them?' she asked, looking considerably dizzy from all the somersaulting. Harry simply laughed and continued to observe the events around him. Ron had stopped doing jumping jacks now, and looked on, curiously, as Hermione's barks finally ceased. Lightly rubbing her side, she stood shakily and looked around.

'Does anyone fancy a dip in the pond?' asked Hermione, her voice oddly hoarse, which Harry assumed was from the barking. Harry smiled, thinking it sounded like fun. Ron grinned. 'We should all go!'

'D'you have a bathing suit?' asked Ron.

Hermione screwed up her face in intense concentration before saying, 'I could borrow Ginny's.'

'And she'd wear ...?' Harry asked, completely aware of how stupid the conversation was. Mrs Weasley had said already they weren't allowed outside. But then again, what she didn't know couldn't hurt her, right?

Ginny giggled and sat down on the couch next to him, so close that she was practically on his lap. 'I s'pose nothing.'

Ron gave them a strange look and said, 'Oh, yuck! No.'

Hermione looked around the room dejectedly and shrugged. 'Alright, then what're we to do? I don't want to sit around,' she groaned.

Ron smiled and blinked dumbly for a second, before saying, 'Well, we can't go outside, so let's bring the outside to us.'

……………………………………………………………

Ron awkwardly climbed up the stairs, realizing for the first time how many there were in his house. What a strange thing they were, too, he thought. He took step after step after step, and before he knew it, he was in a different place.

'Bloody brilliant,' he mumbled as Ginny laughed from somewhere behind him. He led the way up to the drawing room. After they all gathered inside of the cluttered room, Ron pulled out his wand.

'D'you think you should be using that?' asked Ginny. She didn't sound the least bit concerned, though. She sounded relaxed and was unfazed when he gave a half-hearted swishing motion with his wand, uttered a Shrinking Spell, and everything in the room turned microscopic, allowing them all to lie on the floor and spread out. He pocketed his wand and smiled smugly at his little sister. He sluggishly dropped to the floor and looked up at the ceiling and the rest mimicked his actions, Hermione to his left, Ginny to his right, and Harry on her other side.

'What're we doing?' asked Harry. Ron whispered his plans in Hermione's ear, and she grinned. Pulling out her own wand, she muttered an incantation that he had never heard before, and pointed it at the ceiling. She gave a lazy swish of her wand and before long, the plain, off-white ceiling warped and changed; now looking like the night's sky. He had been inspired by the ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but knew the magic was far too difficult for himself to pull it off. That's where good ol' Hermione came in.

'Pretty,' Ginny sighed.

'Should last about an hour ... two at best,' mumbled Hermione, who shifted and pocketed her wand.

The four friends laid there for a while in a comfortable silence, staring up at the ceiling. He heard shuffling to his right but ignored it, trying to lose himself in the atmosphere. Ginny giggled and a shooting star streaked across the fake sky, but no other noises were made, and the silence overtook them.

'I'm thirsty,' announced Ginny. 'Harry, come help me get a drink from the kitchen.' Ron rolled his eyes at his sister's inability to do anything for herself and watched as Harry obediently got up from the floor and followed the redheaded girl out of the room.

A quiet fell over Ron and Hermione again as they stared up at the sky. Although he was tired, and felt that his body needed sleep, his mind was buzzing with thoughts and he couldn't settle down.

'D'you think it'll be different now?' he asked. She didn't answer for a moment.

'Different how?' came the reply, though Hermione made no effort to look at him, or vice versa. Ron was pleased to find, through her tone of voice, that she seemed to understand most of what he was asking without his explanation.

'Well, you're – you're a Muggle,' he said softly, hoping she wouldn't find a way to be offended by his stating the obvious. 'Are you going back to your parents when this is all over? Will you forget about the wizarding world?'

'I haven't thought about it,' she said sleepily. 'I doubt I'll ever be able to turn my back on this world, but it would be nice to live at home for awhile. I haven't been there in so long – not for a long amount of time, at least ... probably not since I started coming here during the summertime.'

He didn't really know how to respond to that. 'Sorry,' was all he could say.

'Don't be,' she said, rolling onto her side to face him. 'I love it here, really. Honest. I just miss my mum and dad.'

Ron nodded and turned his head to see her, but she had already rolled onto her back again. He stared at her for a moment, transfixed, until he remembered what they were talking about. 'What about Harry?' he asked. 'What d'you think he'll be doing?'

'I don't know. I expect that he'll be lost for a bit.'

'How d'you mean?'

'Well, his entire life – at least in the magical world – had been focused around Voldemort.' Ron tried not to flinch at the mention of Voldemort, and was thankful that Hermione didn't notice when he failed miserably. 'He'll probably be wondering what his purpose is, once he's gotten that out of the way. The world will open up to him in ways we can't even imagine right now.'

Ron shifted uncomfortably and thought about what she had said. If Harry defeated You-Know-Who, and became even more famous than he already was, would he still be the same person, underneath it all? Would Harry Potter still want to be his friend, even though Ron Weasley wouldn't be anybody special? He hadn't been anybody special on the train to Hogwarts, when they met, but then again, Harry didn't think _he _was anybody special, either. And he couldn't have been more wrong about that.

He didn't need to worry just yet, because he wasn't even totally sure that they'd all survive this war. That thought didn't comfort him much, either.

'Yeah ...' he sighed.

'I suppose we'll just have to wait and see. It probably won't even hit us that we aren't going back to Hogwarts again until September rolls around,' she predicted. 'Part of me is expecting a letter from Dumbledore, saying it was all a big misunderstanding, that he's still very much alive and that Hogwarts will live to see another year.'

'I think I am, too.'

'Why do you ask?'

'What did I ask?' Ron asked, confused.

'You asked if things will be different,' she reminded him. 'Why?'

He attempted a shrug, which was easier than he'd expected it to be, as he was horizontal, and said, 'I was just wondering.' He turned to look at her and she rolled onto her side again, her features relaxed and her lips pulled into a small smile.

'We aren't going to leave you, Ron.'

He swallowed audibly; amazed that she had correctly guessed what he was secretly worried about. Hermione had always been good with emotions and things like that, he reminded himself. 'I didn't – that's not –' She stared at him in a knowing way and he fell silent.

'We aren't going to leave you,' she repeated. 'You'll always have me – and Harry, of course.'

'Promise?' he asked quietly.

And although he knew she couldn't make a promise like that, not without the chance that she might unintentionally break it, he felt a thousand times better when she said, 'Cross my heart.'

……………………………………………………………

Ginny was restless.

She was obviously having a reaction to the alcohol because, as she lay there, staring up at the enchanted ceiling, she felt tired and giddy and slightly spaced, all at once. She slid over a few inches to her right, where Harry was. She rested her head on his shoulder, but not before he kissed the tip of her nose, rousing a giggle from her lips.

She wanted to do more than rest her head on his shoulder, but the fact that her brother and Hermione were in the room didn't exactly permit the type of snogging session she had in mind. Unless – did she dare? She had to. Perhaps it was the Firewhisky that was making her feel so ... enticed, but she had to do _something_, no matter what the reasons were. She had to get Harry alone.

'I'm thirsty,' she said, breaking the silence. With great effort, she sat up and glanced at Harry, smiling deviously at him. Her head felt like it weighed twenty pounds, but she ignored it. 'Harry, come help me get a drink from the kitchen.'

He gave her a curious look, one that quickly turned into amusement, and he got up from the floor. They walked out of the room and down the stairs, Ginny leading the way. She came to a halt outside of her bedroom.

'What's the –?'

She grabbed Harry by the shirt and pushed him inside, shutting the door behind her. She pounced on him, pushing him against the wall and forcing her tongue inside his mouth. He responded, kissing her eagerly, his tongue battling against her own. He tasted of Firewhisky and chocolate. He put his hands on her back and pulled her closed to him. She moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair and crushing his face against hers, desperate to deepen the kiss. She was standing on her toes and he was leaned over slightly. Ginny cursed herself for being so bloody short (her brothers were all insanely tall, she would never understand it) and wished that Harry would have the sense to press her against the wall, so she could hook her legs around him and they'd be equal height.

She needed to breathe, but she didn't want to pull away. She wanted to stay like that forever, even though the overwhelming height difference would grow to be downright uncomfortable, and she'd probably pass out from air shortage. 'Lock the door,' she panted when they separated.

'What?' he asked. 'Gin, this isn't a good time for a snog. Ron's upstairs. He thinks we're getting drinks.'

'Hermione'll keep him busy,' she shrugged. 'He's in a right state, anyway. He won't even notice that we're gone.'

'Fred and George,' he whispered, though he didn't sound too concerned about either of them. In fact, unless Ginny was mistaken, he sounded as though he desperately wanted her to convince him everything would be fine.

'They've Apparated back to their flat already,' she lied. Truthfully, she knew that her brothers were downstairs. Although they had broken a rather important rule by giving everyone Firewhisky, they weren't stupid enough to leave the four of them alone until their mum got home. Normally, Order meetings lasted well past midnight, so Ginny didn't expect to see her mother for another few hours.

'We shouldn't,' he said without conviction.

'You're legal now, how bloody wonderful is that?'

'Pretty great,' said Harry.

'And,' she smiled, pressing her body against his, 'what better way to celebrate and use magic for the first time outside of Hogwarts than by _locking the door_?'

Harry grinned and moved away from the wall, so he was in plain view of the door again. He pulled out his wand from the back pocket of his trousers and muttered '_Colloportus_.' There was a squelching noise and the door sealed itself shut.

He kissed her again. Evidently, he was satisfied that Ron wouldn't come looking for them anytime soon. Ginny started to push him back, deeper into the room, but he didn't budge. Instead, he returned his hands to her back and pulled her closer to him, letting her feel a distinct something press against her hip. She groaned and gave a hard push, finally succeeding in getting him to stumble backwards. They continued moving until the back of Harry's knees collided with the edge of her bed on the other side of the room. Smiling innocently, Ginny gave a small shove and he fell back onto the bed.

She leapt up onto him, straddling his stomach. She bent down to kiss him, pleased with herself when he groaned and squirmed beneath her. She stifled a giggle and pulled away slightly. He propped himself up with his elbows, putting up quite the fight, not wanting her lips to leave his. Her hands went to his shoulders and she pushed him back down against the bed before leaning in again. Her fingers slid over his chest as she felt his hand go up the back of her shirt and caress the soft skin underneath. She bit his bottom lip and kissed him deeply before pulling away again.

She kissed his mouth, his jaw, his neck. She lifted his shirt and kissed his chest, biting him softly because she knew that he liked it. Harry's body wasn't particularly defined in any way, but something about it seemed to shift something inside of her. Perhaps it was because he was Harry Potter and he was actually letting her do this – which she had always fantasized about doing – that made her giddy and excited and _horribly_ turned on.

She could feel his erection pressing into her stomach and a strange idea popped into her head, one she had considered in the past but always ended up disregarding. This time, however, she didn't disregard it. But she hesitated. What would Harry do? Would he think she was a slag? Or would he be like every other bloke in the world and love it? She had to find out.

She slid down his body, trailing kisses down his stomach, her fingers hastily unbuttoning his trousers.

He came up onto his elbows again, looking uneasy. 'What're you doing?'

'Relax,' she whispered.

'Gin –'

'_Relax_. I just want to give you a proper birthday present.'

……………………………………………………………

**Review.**


	7. When Pranks Backfire

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

**Chapter Seven: When Pranks Backfire  
**……………………………………………………………

Hermione awoke the next morning to a throbbing head.

Her neck was stiff and she felt clammy, like the temperature in the Weasley house was about a hundred degrees too hot. She shifted uncomfortably and felt soreness in her side. She tried to remember the events of the previous night, but it was all a blur. She vaguely remembered Firewhisky, lots of giggling, an enchanted ceiling, and – wait, where was she? The pillow her head was resting on wasn't nearly as soft as it should've been. She opened her eyes and was instantly greeted by blinding light. She winced and shut her eyes again.

She heard a groan, coming from somewhere close to her. She forced her eyes open again and saw that her pillow wasn't a pillow; it was Ron. She screamed and sat up abruptly, instantly regretting it, as her head felt like it would blow up. Her ears were ringing and her eyes couldn't focus on anything.

'Bloody hell, Hermione, shut up!' mumbled Ron, who was groaning again. Hermione blinked repeatedly, willing her eyes to adjust to the overwhelming brightness. When it got slightly better, she looked back at Ron, who was shirtless and holding his head. 'Holy shit –'

'_Ron!_'

'Oh, bugger off,' he said, waving at her dismissively. He looked uncomfortable and his cheeks coloured a bit. 'What – what're you wearing?'

She looked down at herself and nearly screamed again. She was wearing her shorts from the night before, but her top half was clad in only her bra. She grabbed the blankets and pulled them up to cover herself. Ron looked around his bedroom, trying not to look at her, pretending he hadn't seen anything.

'Merlin ...what's going on?' asked Hermione. 'What happened?'

'I don't – I don't know.' He sat up slowly, looking slightly woozy. 'I can't remember.'

'Well, hello.'

'Good morning, you two.'

Hermione looked up, mortified, as Fred and George strolled into the room. She heard Ron curse under his breath.

'You might want to drink this,' Fred said. He handed Hermione a glass full of a bubbling bluish-brown substance.

'You're mad if you think I'm drinking anything you give me,' she mumbled, pushing the glass away. She looked at Ron, who eagerly gulped down the potion George had handed him. He smiled contentedly. 'Ron!'

'What? Drink it, it gets rid of the hangover,' explained Ron.

She gave the potion another nervous glance before drinking it. It tasted absolutely horrible. She held her breath, waiting for her forehead to sprout an arm or her ears to shrivel up and fall off. The only thing she noticed, however, was the significant subsiding of her headache. She sighed and handed the cup back to Fred, smiling gratefully at him.

'Don't worry,' George said, noticing the look on Ron's face, 'Mum left really early this morning; she didn't bother checking in on you. She's gone off to Headquarters with McGonagall. I think they're trying to make the place more inviting for when Harry gets there this afternoon.'

'It's just the six of us again,' Fred said, far too enthusiastically for Hermione's liking.

'Don't you have to be at the shop or something?' Hermione snapped.

'No. We put our assistant, Verity, in charge,' said George.

'Poor girl ...I hope she doesn't stumble across our – er – _new development_,' Fred said, exchanging a concerned look with his twin. Hermione didn't even want to know what they could be talking about.

'Sorry to interrupt,' said Ron, irritably, 'but could either of you tell us what happened last night?'

'Why are we like _this_?' demanded Hermione.

'You took your clothes off yourselves,' said George. 'In fact, you two were in the middle of a heated snog when we found you.' He shrugged and Fred winked suggestively.

'WHAT?' Hermione screamed. Ron turned scarlet.

'Only joking,' Fred laughed nervously. 'You two were in here –'

'Pissed out of your minds –'

'Mumbling something about getting into your pajamas –'

'When you both passed out.'

Hermione sighed in relief, but Ron hadn't cooled off. He glared menacingly at his brothers. 'That doesn't explain,' he growled, 'why we woke up in my bed. What did you bastards do?'

George said, 'Relax, _Ronnie_, it's no big deal. We had a little fun and threw you two on there –'

Fred winked again. 'Of course, you must've moved in the night, because we didn't put you two so close together.'

Hermione blushed and tighten her grip on the blankets. It was bad enough Ron had seen her in her bra; she didn't want the rest of his family to, as well. She cursed herself for not having her wand on her. She could've at least taken comfort in knowing she could hex the two idiots if they tried anything.

George laughed at the two friends. 'All we wanted to do was give ourselves a laugh. We thought that if we stopped by early enough, we could wake you up and give you both a good ribbing –'

'– Not to mention a little scare –'

'And it worked wonderfully.'

They slapped each other on the back and Hermione scowled. She was about to get up and walk out when she remembered what she was wearing. She was trapped, forced to stay there. She couldn't leave, not without having to endure the snide comments and catcalls that she would no doubt receive from George and Fred if she walked around topless.

Having been thoroughly embarrassed, she buried her face into the blankets, not wanting to look at the triumph and sheer enjoyment on their faces as they basked in the glow of yet another practical joke.

She felt Ron hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder and whisper, 'Don't pay any attention to them, Hermione, they're gits.' She smiled into the covers and lifted her head again. George gave Ron a curious look and the smile slid off his face. He turned and gave Hermione the same look before nudging Fred. Fred seemed confused for a moment before his smile, too, disappeared. He raised an eyebrow at them and opened his mouth to speak before being cut off by a scream.

The twins beamed before yelling 'Ginny!' and ran out of the room.

……………………………………………………………

Ron's brothers were incorrigible.

They had deliberately put him and Hermione like that, just to embarrass them when they woke up. Why would they –?

No. They didn't _know_, did they?

Of course they didn't. They couldn't. If they did, he was sure they'd have said something already. Although something about the look George gave him, right before he and Fred ran out of the room, gave him an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He was never drinking again. Okay, that was a lie. But he'd at least wait awhile before taking his next drink. He didn't particularly like waking up with a hangover. In fact, the only reason Ron hadn't killed Fred and George for their trick was because they'd made the Hangover Potion. Ron assumed they'd covered for the four of them when his mother had asked what had happened to them last night, though mostly to save their own arses.

But no matter how angry he was at his brothers, or how embarrassed he was, one thing was for sure: Ron would _never _forget the image of Hermione, lying in his bed, in only her bra and shorts.

'Merlin, what did they do to Ginny?' asked Hermione, sounding alarmed. She pushed the blankets off her and, being that she was against the wall and Ron was on the free side of the bed, she hopped over him and planted her feet firmly on the ground. She was about to rush out of the room to aid her friend when Ron noticed she hadn't put on any clothes.

'Er ...Hermione?'

She turned around and looked at him. He wanted to look at her face, he really did, but ...she wasn't making it easy for him. He was hardly discreet as his eyes swept her body, taking in the swell of her breasts and smooth, flat stomach; the curve of her hips that he could clearly see, even though she was wearing bottoms. Bookish though she was, she was still a girl (yes, Ron _had _noticed) and though she was usually very conservative, it hadn't hindered her development in any way.

Her skin looked so soft, and he wanted nothing more than to run his hands all over her. Her bra was black and delicate fabric. Delicate. That was exactly how he'd be with Hermione. He wouldn't just have her for a quick snog, which had been the basis of his and Lavender's relationship. He wanted to kiss her (not to mention do other things), sure, but he wanted everything that went along with a relationship. He wanted to be able to hold her hand for no reason at all, or brush her bushy hair out of her beautiful face, just as an excuse to touch her. He wanted to row with her in the same way they always had, but instead of not speaking for days on end, he wanted to hug her and kiss her and finally be able to say he was sorry to her face, like he'd tried to do so many times in the past.

Bloody hell, when had Hermione gotten so ...sexy? He was instantly glad that the heat had been nearly unbearable all week, forcing everyone to wear their summer clothes. Her shorts were small and showed off her long, smooth legs. He wondered what they'd feel like if they were wrapped around his waist.

He bit his lip; glad the blankets were covering his ...lower regions, and forced himself to think disgusting thoughts.

_Malfoy_, he thought._ Malfoy smirking and calling him 'Weasel'_._ Malfoy, the Death Eater_._ Hermione punching Malfoy during third year _..._she was bloody brilliant. So fiery and_...

Hermione looked down at herself and blushed. Ron averted his eyes, desperate to calm himself down. When he looked back, she had folded her arms across her chest and was scanning the area for her missing shirt.

_Quidditch _..._Exploding Snaps _..._Homework _..._McGonagall_ ..._Hagrid!_

Nothing worked.

_Snape_.

It worked.

Ron cleared his throat and hesitated before standing up, reaching for the shirt he'd worn the night before, which was lying forgotten on the floor. He threw it to her.

'Here, wear this for now,' he mumbled.

'Thanks,' said Hermione, catching it and quickly putting it on. Much to Ron's disappointment, it covered her up quite well. It hung down low on her, almost to her knees, a true testament to their height difference.

Ron felt a swooping sensation in his stomach when she made eye contact. He had to say something.

He should tell her.

He couldn't.

He had to.

'Hermione –'

'YOU BASTARDS! FIX THIS RIGHT NOW! I'LL HEX YOU TO OBLIVION, BOTH OF YOU!'

Hermione jumped slightly as the sound of Ginny's angry shrieks filled the entire house. They ran down to her room, curious and slightly concerned, wondering what was going on.

'FRED, SO HELP ME – _Harry, stop laughing!_ – I'LL MAKE YOU WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN, GEORGE!'

Ron ran into his sister's room and stopped dead in his tracks. Hermione, who had somehow wound up behind him on the stairs, slammed into him from behind. He would've asked her if she was alright or helped her get steady, but he was far too shocked to think straight. He moved deeper into the room, Hermione following him. He heard a gasp escape her lips.

Fred and George were standing beside Ginny's bed, cowering in fear, and Ginny was standing on her mattress, now equal height to the twins. Harry was flat on Ginny's bed, rolling around in hysterical laughter and occasionally grabbed his head or side. Ron bit his lip hard, not wanting to break down like Harry, for he knew that his friend would be in for it later.

Ginny was orange. And it was hilarious.

No, orange didn't begin to describe it.

Her skin was almost florescent. Her face, her hands, arms, legs and feet. Every piece of her that he could see was glowing bright orange. Ron winced. It would look terrible on anybody, but her hair only make it even worse.

'Holy shit,' he whispered. Hermione didn't even yell at him. She stood beside him, her jaw nearly to the floor.

'What did you two do to her?' she demanded.

'I'LL TELL YOU WHAT THEY DID!' shouted Ginny. She winced and clutched her head, swaying slightly on her feet, but didn't stop yelling. 'THEY SLIPPED ME SOME BLOODY PRODUCT LAST NIGHT AND NOW I'M ...I'M ..._ORANGE!_'

Fred and George, much to Ron's amazement, weren't laughing. On the contrary, they look as if they might soil themselves with fear. Ron was startled to realize just how similar his little sister was to their mother in that aspect. Harry's chuckling had subsided and he was holding his head painfully, his amusement still apparent on his face.

'Don't just stand there,' Hermione said worriedly. 'Fix whatever you've done.'

'YES, FIX IT, OR I SWEAR I'LL USE THE KILLING CURSE ON YOU BOTH – WITH PLEASURE.'

'You'll be in loads of trouble with Mum if you use magic to –' George began, but stopped abruptly when he got a particularly threatening glare from Ginny.

'I DON'T CARE! JUST GET RID OF THIS AWFUL COLOUR!'

'Can't,' Fred said fearfully. 'That –' he pointed at her face 'is the work of a Tangerine Tart. The effects last a full twenty-four hours.'

'WHAT!' Ginny's face was contorted into an expression of anger, but her skin didn't turn its usual bright red. Ron held back another laugh when he realized it was because she was temporarily orange. She'd be orange all day. He was about to crack a slightly insensitive joke when she sank down onto the bed and burst into tears. Hermione clicked her tongue against her teeth and Harry stopped smiling immediately, looking mortified. Ginny buried her orange face into his chest and sobbed.

Harry put an arm around her and grabbed his wand from his pocket. Ron had never seen him look so angry, and he'd seen Harry become angry quite often throughout their friendship. If looks could kill ...well, his brothers wouldn't still be standing. He didn't like the way Harry was pointing his wand at Fred and George, but had to admit, he was slightly pleased with the way Harry was defending Ginny.

He decided he'd allow Harry to hold her like that for now. She was upset, and he was comforting her. But if he tried anything, Ron would kill him. The only reason Ron hadn't already beaten Harry to a bloody pulp for dumping Ginny was because he was Ron's best friend, but he wouldn't be able to contain his rage if Harry hurt his sister again. He was a Weasley, and nobody messed with a Weasley – especially one particular Weasley, the one who had six older, temperamental brothers. Harry was practically a brother to him, but Ginny was his sister by blood, and he'd be damned if he let anyone take advantage of her. Ginny wasn't a pushover by any means, but she wanted Harry badly enough that Ron knew she'd let him do practically anything. He hoped Harry would keep his hands to himself. He wasn't allowed to have Ginny until the Final Battle was over and done with, so Ginny could be safe and Harry wouldn't feel the need to deny her.

'If either of you value your lives, you'll figure out a way to fix ..._this_. I don't bloody care what you do, but if she isn't back to normal within two hours, you'll be the ones to pay,' he growled. Fred and George took a few steps back and Harry continued to hold his wand out menacingly. 'She might not be able to use magic but I am, and so help me, I won't hesitate to hex you both.'

……………………………………………………………

Harry woke up to a rather painful headache. At first, he thought it was his scar burning, but he quickly remembered that he had had quite a bit of Firewhisky last night. He felt rather than saw Ginny asleep, her head resting on his chest. He sighed and ran his fingers through her flaming red hair.

He shut his eyes and tried to fall back asleep, hoping it wasn't too early and that his hangover wouldn't be as severe by the time he had to leave the room and face Mrs Weasley. He listened to Ginny's calm, even breathing and was almost on the brink of sleep when he felt her stirring. She groaned and sat up slowly.

'Hey,' whispered Harry.

'Hey,' she said. 'My head hurts.'

'Yeah, so does mine,' he laughed. Harry squinted in the dark of her room, trying to see her face. Something looked strange ...she looked different.

He vaguely remembered Fred (or was it George?) saying something last night about Ginny being angry when she awoke. She didn't seem angry to Harry. What else had they said? He searched his memory, trying to remember their conversation.

_Oh_.

He could somewhat see her through the light coming in from the curtains of her window, but he needed to be absolutely sure. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and muttered _'Lumos!'_

His suspicions were confirmed. Her face was orange. His eyes went wide and his first instinct was to burst out laughing. He sniggered and sat up to get a better look at her. It wasn't just her face, it was her entire body. All of her skin was a bright orange in colour.

'What?' asked Ginny.

Harry offered a weak smile and said, 'Maybe you should look in the mirror.' He unlocked her door as she opened her curtains, allowing more light inside. He tucked his wand away, praying that she didn't react badly to her appearance. Walking over to her mirror, she gaped in shock and her hands flew to her face. Then she screamed.

Moments later, Fred and George were in her room, looking thoroughly pleased with themselves. Harry exploded into laughter, ignoring the pain in his head and he did so. Ginny rushed over to him and smacked him with her pillow, only causing him to laugh ever harder. She jumped onto the bed, standing tall, and glared at her brothers. Harry felt tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched her. Her back was to him, but he didn't need to see her face in order to imagine the look on it. Only now, she was orange, as well.

He felt slightly like Hermione the night before, when she couldn't stop laughing over the silliest of things. There was a stitch in his side, but he still couldn't control himself. He was giggling like an idiot, and didn't care. Even her feet were orange!

He wasn't even aware of what was going on around him until he heard Ron curse, followed by Hermione demanding an explanation.

He forced himself to focus on what was happening, though he didn't take his eyes off of her neck. It was almost the same colour as her hair. It was truly unfortunate that she was a redhead. If it hadn't clashed so terribly with her red locks, she might've even appreciated the joke. It was rather funny, in Harry's opinion.

He watched as the small girl whipped out her wand and threatened to kill the twins. The look of terror on the faces of Fred and George – who were still almost taller than her, even though she was standing on her bed - was nothing short of hysterical. One of them explained that the spell wouldn't wear off for an entire day. Without warning, she flopped down onto the bed and cried. Harry didn't know what to do. He hadn't expected her to cry, and he definitely hadn't expected the overwhelming anger that welled up inside of him when she did.

Her stupid bastard brothers, the ones who Harry had given his money to, so they could start their joke shop, had done this to her. Harry felt directly responsible. Without him, there never would've been a "Tangerine Tart" for her to eat. He did the only thing he could think of – he whipped out his wand and threatened them.

'Harry,' pleaded Hermione, 'calm down.' Harry turned to glare at her, not really angry at her, but irritated that she was interfering. Ron stepped in front of her, protectively, looking uneasily at Harry's wand.

'We can't fix it. We haven't got an antidote for it,' explained George.

'It wears off in a day, I don't see what she's so concerned about,' said Fred. Ginny gave another loud sob and Harry didn't lower his wand. He was almost shaking with fury. He honestly didn't see a problem with murdering the two prats right there.

'Then you'd better get on it, because I wasn't joking when I said you have two hours,' he said evenly. His voice was calm but he was nothing of the sort.

'Harry –'

'You're wasting valuable time,' muttered Harry.

'Whoa, wait a second here,' Fred said. 'What exactly d'you think you're going to do to us?' He sounded almost as if he was mocking Harry. Harry Potter was not to be taken lightly, especially when it came to the girl he lo–

His thoughts came to a crashing halt and he stared blankly at the twins for a moment before tightening his grip on his wand. 'Why don't you stick around and find out? I'd be more than willing to teach you a lesson about pranking Ginny.'

Fred opened his mouth to argue but George elbowed him in the ribs. 'We'll just leave now and see if we can find an antidote,' he said. Harry nodded, but said nothing.

The twins Apparated out of the bedroom and Harry returned his wand to his pocket. He looked awkwardly at Ron, who had some mixture of a grin and a glare on his face, and Hermione, who looked downright shocked. He surveyed their clothing. Hermione was wearing Ron's shirt, and he wasn't sure if there was anything underneath it. Ron was wearing wrinkled trousers and Harry guessed Hermione had his shirt on, because his chest was bare.

'So ...' said Harry, a playful smile tugging at his lips, 'what did you two do last night?'

His smile quickly vanished when Hermione looked at her feet and Ron blushed furiously. Hermione glided over to the bed and put a comforting hand on Ginny's back. The room was silent – except for Ginny's occasional sob – and it was then that Harry noticed how terrible his headache truly was. He groaned, and using the hand that wasn't wrapped protectively around Ginny, clutched his forehead again. Ron left the room, and returned a few minutes later carrying two glasses filled with a disgusting-looking potion.

'Drink,' he ordered, handing a glass to Harry. He gave Ron a worried look. 'It'll get rid of that headache.' Harry snatched the drink out of his hands and guzzled it down quickly, trying not to gag. Why was it that every potion in the world that was supposed to help him also made him want to retch? He automatically didn't care as he felt the sudden relief of his pounding head.

Ginny pulled away from Harry and took the other drink from her brother. She made a face as she drank but immediately sighed and offered everyone a weak smile.

'Sorry,' she apologized, wiping her eyes. 'I didn't mean to explode like that.'

'What they did was horrible,' Hermione said. 'Honestly, I don't find it funny in the least.'

'It's not that bad,' Ron lied. He offered her a reassuring smile. 'It'll wear off by tomorrow.'

'It had better wear off in a few hours, if those idiots know what's good for them,' Ginny laughed. She shot Harry an appreciative look. 'Thanks for scaring them, but I doubt they'll come up with anything. And besides, I think Mum might get mad if you murder them.'

Mrs Weasley came home half an hour later. Harry was upstairs dressing, but he was alerted of her presence when he heard her screaming. He smiled and followed the noise, Ron hot on his trail. He found the woman, red-faced and arms flailing, pacing around the room as Hermione and Ginny looked on.

'I specifically told them they weren't allowed to use any products on any of you! When I get my hands on them – oh, Ginny, _why _would you take something like that from them, anyway?'

Ginny looked at Hermione for help. She couldn't exactly say that she'd been intoxicated when it had happened. That would get Fred and George in some highly-deserved trouble, yes, but she'd also be in hot water for drinking.

'I didn't realize ...' mumbled Ginny. She noticed Harry and Ron for the first time and shot them a pleading look. They both shrugged and wisely kept their distance.

'Well, go upstairs and get ready, because we have to be at Grimmauld Place in an hour,' Mrs Weasley said.

Ginny's eyes went wide. 'No! I'm not going! I refuse to be seen like this outside of the house!'

'You don't have a choice,' argued Mrs Weasley. 'I can't leave you alone – look what happened the last time I trusted you lot to be responsible.'

'But _Mum _–'

'Ginevra Weasley,' Mrs Weasley said in a dangerous tone, 'you are coming whether you like it or not. Now, you can waste an hour complaining and end up arriving at Headquarters in your wrinkled clothes and unwashed face, or you can go upstairs and fix yourself up.'

Ginny sighed and went up the stairs.

Harry's chest constricted and he felt a sudden nervousness in his stomach – he was going back to Grimmauld Place, to officially become a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

……………………………………………………………

This would go down as one of the worst days in Ginny's life.

And for a girl who had spent her life being slightly ignored by her parents and six older brothers, had been possessed by Voldemort, narrowly escaped death twice in the past two years, not to mention been dumped by the boy she'd had a mad crush on since she was ten, that was saying something.

Grimmauld Place was it's usual gloomy self, although it seemed cleaner than usual. Ginny guessed it was because that filthy house elf, Kreacher, wasn't there to make a mess of things.

'_Scum! Blood traitors, disgusting creatures, filth! Besmirching the house of my fathers!'_

That old hag was getting on Ginny's last nerve. If she had the ability to use magic, she would've whipped out her wand and blown a hole though that bloody wall ages ago. Sirius had mentioned something about a permanent sticking charm, but he never said anything about what would happen if the entire wall was taken down. She was sure Harry wouldn't have minded if she destroyed some of his house.

To top it all off, there was a substantial amount of Order members present (all of whom she knew rather well and saw on a weekly basis) at Headquarters for Harry's introduction. They were all were either staring rudely at her or avoiding eye contact altogether. She was orange, yes, but she wasn't a mutant!

The others didn't seem to be having a good time, either. Harry was uncomfortable, and understandably so. This was his godfather's house. He hadn't been in it since Sirius was alive. Ginny couldn't image how hard it must've been for him to stay there. She was half expecting the man to trudge into the room any minute now, a thought that only broke her heart when she remembered the truth about poor Sirius, and the fact that she'd never see him again. Ron and Hermione were slightly more cheerful than Harry, though Ginny noticed they were acting strange around each other. They were sitting on the same couch, but on opposite ends, as far away as they could possible be while on the same piece of furniture. She could lie down in the space they'd left between themselves.

Bill arrived shortly after they did, with the twins behind him. Ginny looked at Harry, who was shooting them a death glare.

'We – er – couldn't find anything to make it go away immediately,' admitted George, looking almost afraid.

'Take this,' Fred said, handing a small pill to Ginny. 'It'll speed up the fading process, you know, so you won't be so –'

'And why should I believe _you_?' demanded Ginny. She was still furious with her brothers ...the mangy gits.

'We aren't the brightest blokes around,' said George, 'but we know better than to give you something else, with Mum around here somewhere, no doubt ready to murder us as it is.'

Ginny tentatively took the pill and swallowed it. She turned to Hermione. 'Well? Any difference?'

Hermione offered a small smile. 'It looks a little lighter,' she said hopefully. 'It isn't as ...bright as before.'

'It'll still take a bit to fully work,' explained Fred. 'I don't see what the big deal is, of course. It was just a harmless joke ...'

Ginny was about to curse loudly at them when McGonagall entered the room. When her eyes scanned the room and fell on Ginny, she gave a surprised gasp before looking at Bill and nodding. The eldest Weasley child smiled in recognition and left the room, dragging Fred and George with him. 'If you're ready,' she said to Harry, 'we'll see you now. We've assembled only the most trusted of all the Order members to be here today – Arthur, Molly and Bill Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shaklebolt, and myself, of course. Did you bring the note with you?'

'Er ...yeah,' said Harry. He stood up and reached into his pocket, handing her the crumple up note that Ginny knew to be the one found in the fake Horcrux, the one from R.A.B. Harry awkwardly looked at the other people in the room.

'I trust that Mr Weasley and Miss Granger accompanying you?'

Harry nodded. He started to leave before pausing and turning back to face Ginny. He worried his lip and regarded her for a moment. She assumed he was trying to make eye contact, trying to make sure that she wasn't angry at him for not including her. She stubbornly looked away. She couldn't help feeling slightly bitter and envious as she watched Hermione and Ron desert her to go talk about important, secretive things. She knew it wasn't Harry's fault, of course, and that her mother was the one keeping her out of the loop, but it didn't help that her brother, who was less than twenty months older than her, was being thrown into the mix.

'Actually, Professor, would it be okay if Ginny came, too?'

Her head snapped back in Harry's direction. He was staring at her with a concerned expression on his face. She could tell he didn't really want her there, but also realized that she deserved to be there, she had _earned _the right to be included. Her brother glared at Harry, cursing him under his breath. Hermione smiled at her.

'Molly wishes that her daughter be kept out of this business until she is of legal age,' McGonagall informed him. Ginny's heart sank. There was no way Harry would be able to override her mum's authority, and even if he could, he wouldn't dare. Ginny was yet to meet someone who wasn't, on one level or another, frightened of Molly Weasley.

'Yes, I'm aware,' Harry said calmly, 'but if I'm going to be in charge, I'm going to want to be surrounded by people that I trust.' He winked at Ginny. 'I know I have to respect Mrs Weasley's wishes, and so I'm not asking that Ginny be able to join the Order or participate in the missions. I am, however, asking that she sit in on the meetings.'

'Potter, Miss Weasley is –'

'One of the brightest witches I know,' he interjected. Ginny was getting nervous. She had never seen anyone stand up to her mother _or _Professor McGonagall, let alone at the same time. 'She might be able to offer insight into some of the matters.'

'I see your point,' said McGonagall. 'But she is only fifteen, and she –'

'Has already fought Death Eaters in two separate instances, both times having escaped without any serious injury – which, correct me if I am wrong, is more than I can say for some of the trained Aurors who were present at those battles,' Harry said forcefully. 'And she'll be sixteen in a week and a half, if it helps.'

Ginny smiled inwardly. It felt amazing to hear Harry talking about her like that, as if she was some powerful, accomplished witch.

'She has more than proven that she can handle anything we throw at her. She's clever and capable, and as much as I hate to admit it, I think she'd be quite good as an Order member,' he continued. Ron's face had turned about the same colour of Ginny's magically altered one and his hands were balled into fists, his knuckles now white. McGonagall looked about ready to object again when he said, 'I know, I know, she can't join the Order, I've already agreed with you on that, but I want her there. And I'm not just saying this because I want all my friends to be at the meetings with me, because honestly, I'd prefer it if none of them were wrapped up into this. But they are, and I can't change that now.'

Ron opened his mouth to speak but Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and shook her head. He wisely shut his mouth, though he didn't look as if he'd calmed down any. McGonagall was standing with her hands on her hips, looking up at Harry, who was still arguing his point.

'Apart from me, she's the only living person on our side to be in any type of contact with Voldemort in the past sixteen years. She deserves to at least sit in on a conversation about him, don't you think?' asked Harry.

'I think so, yes,' agreed McGonagall. 'Unfortunately, it is not what I think, but what is best for her, that is important.'

'Absolutely, you're right. What's best for all of us is a very important issue for the Order,' Harry said. Ginny was confused. A minute ago he was arguing with Professor McGonagall, and now he was folding? She was about to salvage his dignity and just tell him to go on without her when he got a stubborn look on his face. A smile played on his lips as he said, 'However, I think we'd all agree that the best thing would be for Voldemort to be gone, isn't that correct?'

'Yes,' nodded McGonagall, though she still didn't seem understand. Ginny didn't understand, either.

'Good.' He lowered his voice. 'You've heard the prophecy, Professor; you know that I'm the, er, "Chosen One", as everyone puts it.' She nodded quickly and he continued. 'Then allow me to offer you a choice: you either allow Ginny to participate in the meeting, or I refuse to attend.'

'Are you giving me an ultimatum, Potter?'

'Now, now, ultimatum is such a ..._harsh _word.' Harry grinned and appeared to think about it. 'But yes, I suppose I am giving you one.'

Hermione gasped and Ron finally calmed down as the two looked on. Ginny couldn't contain her grin as Professor McGonagall appeared truly shocked. McGonagall turned and stared at Ginny, who instantly wiped the smile from her face and gave her a pleading look.

'Fine,' she concurred. 'But if I catch you so much as _breathing _the wrong way, you're out, got it?'

'Got it,' Ginny said, nodding furiously.

'Under _no _circumstances are you allowed to attend the missions until you are seventeen years of age, do you understand?'

'I understand.'

Ginny and Professor McGonagall engaged in a staring contest for several seconds before McGonagall nodded and said, 'Very well, then.' She looked back at Harry. 'I don't appreciate the situation you've put me in.'

'I'm sorry for that, really, but this is important and I wouldn't do this if I didn't think she could handle it. You'll see. She'll be very useful, I promise,' he said quietly, so quietly that Ginny had to struggle to make out what he had said. McGonagall nodded stiffly and walked out of the room, beckoning them to follow her. Ron and Hermione went eagerly, but Ginny grabbed Harry's arm and the two lingered behind.

'Thank you,' she said appreciatively. 'I know you don't want me there, but ...'

'Yeah, well ...' said Harry. 'I thought about what you said, that day in the attic. You were right, I guess. This is your fight, too, and you deserve to at least know what's going on.'

Her breathing hitched and she was tempted to ask him something that she wasn't supposed to ask until Bill's wedding, but she caught herself just in time. 'Did you see Ron's face? I thought he was going to explode!'

Harry laughed. 'He'll get over it.'

'You think?'

'If he wants to be invited to the next meeting, he'd be smart to control himself during this one,' said Harry. He smiled and touched her cheek. 'It doesn't look that bad anymore, y'know. Whatever Fred gave you, it worked. It's faded a bit.'

'Well, I hope so,' she said, looking up at him. 'I was as orange as a bloody pumpkin!'

'Maybe,' he grinned, 'but you still looked beautiful.'

……………………………………………………………

**Before I start getting reviews saying her name is Virginia Weasley – no, it's actually Ginevra. Check out JK Rowling's official website under 'Characters' (found in the 'Extra' section) for those of you who don't believe.**

**Don't forget to review!**


	8. The Meeting

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter ... but a girl can dream, right?**

**Thanks for all the reviews! Over 200 ... wow!**

**Chapter Eight: The Meeting  
**……………………………………………………………

'What is she doing here?' Mrs Weasley demanded when Harry and Ginny entered the room. She, Mr Weasley, Bill, Kingsley, Tonks, Lupin, McGonagall, Moody, Ron and Hermione were sitting around a large table.

McGonagall merely shook her head and pointed accusingly at Harry. Harry smiled and saw Ginny stop dead in her tracks. He knew what was going to happen. Mrs Weasley was going to bully him into having Ginny leave the meeting. He would feel guilty for going against her (she let him into her home ... he was on her _clock!_) and would wind up backing down and accepting defeat.Didn't Mrs Weasley realize that this was bigger than her not wanting Ginny to discuss Voldemort with them? Couldn't she understand that her daughter might actually be useful? Harry had already fought with McGonagall, something he never thought he'd do, and he wasn't about to give in now.

He stood his ground. 'She's sitting in on the meeting, Mrs Weasley,' explained Harry. He tried to sound polite – the last thing he wanted to do was offend her – but it was important to him that Ginny be present, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

'No, she most certainly is not,' said Mrs Weasley, her voice loud and annoyed. 'Ginny is not of legal age and as her parent, I'm forbidding her from attending this meeting.'

A flicker of annoyance passed through him, as well. 'Fine,' said Harry. Mrs Weasley smiled triumphantly. 'Call us when you're through, then.' He turned to Ginny and nodded encouragingly, telling her to follow his lead. 'Come on, Gin, let's go.'

'Where do you think you're going, Potter?' Mad-Eye Moody called after them.

Harry turned back to face them again. He smiled with false innocence and said, 'To the kitchen, to get something to eat. I'm rather famished.'

'This isn't the time for food, boy. This meeting revolves around you,' Moody said.

'See, that's what I thought, too,' Harry said. He knew he was about to get nasty, and was surprised that he didn't feel awkward or nervous about lecturing a group full of adults. 'I want Ginny to be here. But, since that obviously won't happen, I'm forced to wonder if anything I have to say will have any impact at all.'

'Of course it will be, Harry,' Lupin said soothingly. 'Haven't you heard? From here on out, you're in charge.'

Harry shrugged. 'Apparently, I'm not.' He wanted to show them that he meant business, and if that meant walking out of the meeting, so be it. He was stubborn all the way down to his toes. 'I've already explained to Professor McGonagall that I think Ginny deserves to be here –' he looked at Mrs Weasley 'whether some of you _want_ her to be or not.'

'Well, Potter,' Moody growled sarcastically, drawing Harry's attention back to the man with the magical eye, 'forgive us for not accepting the idea of being bossed around by a _child_ with open arms.'

Harry felt his blood boil. He wasn't a child, why didn't anyone understand that? Hadn't he proved, by now, that he could handle things that a simple _child_ couldn't? 'First of all,' snapped Harry, 'I'm not a child. I'm seventeen, incase you didn't know.' Moody rolled his normal eye. 'And secondly, perhaps you shouldn't complain about the fact that I'm _bossing you around_, and should instead focus on more important questions, such as "what the hell did I do wrong that a mere seventeen year old has been put in charge of me?" Now, unless you have any other snide remarks, Ginny and I are leaving.' He saw Ginny staring at him in shock. She offered him a weak smile.

'You aren't as important as you think, Potter,' Moody barked.

Harry gritted his teeth and balled his fists. Something about Moody had always rubbed him the wrong way, but this was too much. 'Really?' argued Harry. 'That's funny; because what I _think _is that we're standing in _my _house right now. What I _think _is that I've been asked to lead the Order missions, a job that I'm fairly certain you weren't considered for. What I _think _is that if I don't feel like fighting Voldemort, you'll end up dead, or in the crazy ward at St. Mungo's. What I _think _is that you need to swallow your pride and suck it up, because I'm sure it wouldn't exactly be a confidence booster if I pointed out the fact that, regardless of what you say, I am still the one giving the orders here, or if I told you that I didn't want you involved as far as my missions are concerned.'

The room was silent as Harry and Moody glared at each other. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride and thrill course through his veins as he realized what he just said. Had he really said those things to a room full of respected Aurors and other important witches and wizards? Ginny was gazing at Harry with a new sense of admiration. Ron and Hermione hadn't moved or spoken since the arguing began, but both looked rather pleased by it all. Perhaps they were just relieved that his temper wasn't being directed at them for once.

Moody seemed oddly calm and composed. Harry detected something in his non-magical eye, something that oddly resembled respect. Moody gave a small nod and couldn't keep the grin off of his old face as he stared, rather impressed, at Harry.

'Please stay, Harry,' requested Tonks.

Harry smiled warmly at Tonks, whose hair was down to the middle of her back and a brilliant shade of blue. 'I'm aware that it's going to be awkward for most of you, having to take orders from –' he looked amusedly at Moody 'a child, but I hope you can all get past it rather quickly. The point of me being put "in charge", as you say, isn't to sacrifice your dignity. It's because I – well –' he stopped and looked around the room.

He contemplated what he was about to say, feeling assured that everyone in the room could be trusted. The Weasleys would never betray him. Lupin was the last Marauder, the last remaining connection to Harry's parents – he needed Harry just as much as Harry needed him. Tonks was somewhat of a sister to him ... she knew Sirius, she had been his relative, and she was the only one who felt a loss like he did when Sirius died. Kingsley Shacklebolt had proven time and time again that he was reliable and clearly on their side. Alastor Moody (provided that this _was _the real Moody and not another imposter) was trustworthy as well, though he could be a little threatening at times. And McGonagall already knew, as did Hermione, Ginny and Ron.

He continued quietly, 'Let's just say they aren't calling me the "Chosen One" for nothing.' Everybody looked rather surprised at his announcement; not because they hadn't already expected as much, but because Harry wasn't one to reveal such private information.

'We understand,' Arthur said. Bill nodded.

'So,' Harry said, feeling confident once more, 'you're all going to listen to me?'

There was a loud reply of 'Yes', coming from everyone except Ginny, Hermione and Ron, who were watching Harry with disbelief. They had seen him in this position before, when he had led the DA meetings and when they had flown off to the Department of Mysteries, but they had never expected to see this side of him again today, under these circumstances. He was being a leader. He had these _adults _hanging wrapped around his finger.

'You'll respect my decisions, even if you don't always agree with them?' asked Harry, focusing his attention on Mrs Weasley.

Once again, the Order members, Molly Weasley included, responded with a 'Yes'.

'Good,' Harry said, walking deeper into the room. 'Pull up a chair, Ginny; we have Order business to discuss.'

……………………………………………………………

The Order meeting had been nothing like Ginny imagined it to be.

It was mostly McGonagall and other members talking about recent attacks, and all the other occurrences that Ginny had already heard about, through the _Daily Prophet_. Some of the facts were different, as expected, but the general concept had not varied.

Of course, she wasn't complaining. She was so thrilled that she was finally included that she didn't even become bored as Kingsley Shacklebolt droned on and on. She hung on his every word (though everyone else had long since tuned out) and stared at him with slight awe and admiration, letting it sink in that she was at an Order meeting. When she noticed Harry was staring at her with a curious expression on his face, she blushed and avoided looking at Kingsley for the rest of the conference.

She avoided looking at Harry, as well, but for different reasons. She was still in utter shock and disbelief. He had defended her, and stood up to her mother. That had never happened before, as far as Ginny knew, and she had close to sixteen years of experience in that area. She was rather impressed – and, to be perfectly honest, turned on – by the way he hadn't taken any flack from anyone, even someone as scary as a tag team of her mum and Mad-Eye Moody. He had done it for her. He hadn't gained anything by standing up to them all (other than a small bit of respect, perhaps) but she had. What he said made the difference between her sitting in on the meeting and her sitting down in the kitchen, waiting anxiously with Fred and George, as the others finished.

She held back a grin as she pictured her idiot brothers, complaining because she was allowed insider information while they were forbidden from attending. She scanned the area, half expecting to find an Extendable Ear, but remembered that McGonagall had placed an Imperturbable Charm on the room after Ginny and Harry sat down and the discussion began.

Harry wasn't talking nearly as much as Ginny had expected him to. In fact, she wasn't sure if he'd spoken at all since McGonagall and Kingsley took over. She knew that the purpose of this small gathering was to bring Harry up to speed, but she never realized that they'd need to talk _a lot _in order to do so.

'And now that we are all on the same page,' McGonagall said when Kingsley finished his monologue, 'I will turn the floor over to Harry.' She nodded in his direction, and everyone focused their attention on him. 'Everybody present, and _only _everybody present, have been told about the Horcruxes. Nobody outside of this room should have any information on them,' she said forcefully, giving meaningful looks to everyone at the table. She turned to Harry. 'They only have the general idea of what a Horcrux is. They know that they're a way to preserve someone's soul, and that Voldemort has used many – seven, as far as we know. Now, Potter, if you would please let us in on the important details you and Albus had discussed, as even I do not know them.'

'Okay,' Harry said, standing up. 'Dumbledore showed me a bunch of memories he'd collected, using the Penseive in his office. The point was to teach me about Voldemort,' explained Harry. 'The memories I was shown took me through Voldemort's life, detailing his thirst for power and the reasons why he wanted to eliminate any "bad blood" in the wizarding world.'

Ron scoffed and stared at Harry expectantly, waiting for him to go on. Ginny bit back a laugh as everyone in the room turned to glare at her brother.

'I can't even begin to explain anything without telling you about his past, so I need to start there,' said Harry. 'Just bear with me, please. Voldemort's mum, Merope, lived with her brother, Morfin, and their father, Marvolo. Marvolo was the heir of Salazar Slytherin. Merope fell in love with a Muggle from the town, named Tom Riddle.'

'That's a bit rich,' said Bill. 'You-Know-Who's a half-blood and he thinks he has the right to weed out other half-bloods?'

'The hypocrisy of Lord Voldemort is not the topic of discussion,' said McGonagall, though she looked rather amused. 'Continue, Potter.'

'Right, well, Merope used a love potion and tricked Tom Riddle into marrying her. After a while, though, Tom came to his senses and left her,' continued Harry. 'By then, Merope was pregnant. She gave birth at an orphanage, intending to give her baby up once he was born, and died almost immediately after. But before she did, she made sure her baby was named Tom Marvolo Riddle.'

Ginny shuddered, having heard that name far too many times for her liking, but said nothing.

'Growing up, Voldemort bullied all the kids at the orphanage. He would always take their things and hide them in his room. As Dumbledore said, he liked to "collect trophies" for whenever he did something he thought was particularly great. When Dumbledore went there, to tell him about Hogwarts and bring him to school, the woman who ran the place told him that he did weird, frightening things.'

'Like what?' inquired Kingsley.

'Once, on some trip with the other kids, Voldemort brought two of them into a cave with him. When they came out, the two were ... _odd_.'

'Oh.'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Voldemort figured it must've been his dad who was magical, not his mum, but when he discovered that it was the other way around he instantly hated his father and, by association, all Muggles. When he got out of Hogwarts, he tracked down his uncle, Morfin, and stole Morfin's wand. He used it to kill his father, Tom Riddle Senior, and his grandparents. He, of course, framed Morfin for the whole thing.'

'Naturally,' Lupin said, a smile playing at his lips.

'Then, awhile later,' Harry recounted, 'Voldemort went to this woman's house. They knew each other, it seemed. The woman was some distant descendant of Helga Hufflepuff, and she showed him a cup that once belonged to Hufflepuff, and a locket with the Slytherin mark on it. Voldemort ended up killing her.'

Harry paused, apparently waiting for someone to interject, but nobody spoke. They were all listening intently, watching him. Ginny was amazed at how easily Voldemort could kill. But then she remembered that he tried to kill Harry when he was only a _baby_. You had to be truly evil to do that ... to even think about dong that.

'Horace Slughorn was the one who told him about Horcruxes, and what they did. That's when Voldemort got the bright idea to make seven of them.'

'Yes, but – how does knowing You-Know-Who's life story help us to find these Horcruxes?' Tonks asked.

'He liked to collect trophies, remember me saying that?' Harry said. Everyone nodded. 'When he framed his uncle for murder, he stole Slytherin's ring, something Morfin had because he was the new heir of Slytherin, after Marvolo died. He turned it into a Horcrux, and Dumbledore found it in the ruins of Morfin's house. He destroyed it.'

Ginny looked around the room. There were many confused faces around the table. Everybody was practically on the edge of their seats, waiting for the moment that Harry would say something important and everyone would understand.

'When he killed that woman, he stole the Hufflepuff cup and the Slytherin locket from her. He made those into Horcruxes, too,' Harry said. 'He hides important pieces in places that are equally important to him.'

'So it's just a matter of knowing where to look?' asked Lupin.

'Not exactly, no. You need to know what you're looking for, which is why examining Voldemort's past is so crucial, because we wouldn't have known anything without doing so. Voldemort's diary –' Harry's eyes lingered on Ginny 'which he gave to Lucius Malfoy for safekeeping, was another Horcrux. I destroyed it in my second year.'

'We've already found two, which means we have five to go, is that right?' Mr Weasley asked.

'I'm not exactly sure,' answered Harry. 'The locket was hidden in the cave where he took those kids when he was young. That's where I was the night Hogwarts got invaded – I was with Dumbledore, and we went to find it. When we got there, it had already been stolen, and there was a note left, which Professor McGonagall will probably show you later. Judging by what the note says, though, I'm fairly certain that it's been destroyed.'

'We're down to four,' stated Moody.

'Three, actually,' Harry corrected. 'You have to keep in mind that one Horcrux is literally _inside _of Voldemort. We only need to find three more.'

'One is obviously the cup,' McGonagall said. 'But what are the other two?'

'I'm almost positive that one is something that previously belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw,' said Harry. 'Voldemort tried to collect something from all four founders, but he never succeeded on getting something of Gryffindor's, I know that for sure. And Professor Dumbledore believed that the final one is Voldemort's snake.'

'Is that wise, though?' asked Hermione. 'A snake already has a soul ...'

'Yeah, it sounds bloody stupid to me,' agreed Harry. 'But Dumbledore and I both agreed that Voldemort was planning on making his final Horcrux after he killed me. And since that never happened, he had to improvise.'

'When do we start?'

'What?' Harry asked.

'When do we start?' Lupin repeated. 'We need to look for these Horcruxes, don't we?'

'It's not that cut and dry,' Harry said. 'We need to research and visit a lot of places before we can do _anything_. If we make even one wrong move, Voldemort will know everything and we'll be in danger. Of course, he's bound to know a bit, since Snape is with him now,' he added bitterly, 'but not everything.'

'What's your plan, Harry?' asked Mr Weasley. Ginny crossed her fingers under the table and hoped that it included her in some important way or another.

'I want Hermione to assist with the research, checking facts and dates and looking for a possible object that can be linked to Rowena Ravenclaw. If that's okay with her,' he said, nodding at Hermione.

'Anything I can do to help, I'll do,' she smiled.

'Great. I want Ron to help plan the missions. He'll basically help whenever we get a lead and need to check it out. That means,' Harry explained, looking at Ron now, 'that you and Hermione will probably need to communicate a lot. No fighting allowed.' Hermione and Ron nodded sheepishly. 'Ron, you'll also come up with strategies, always staying two steps ahead.'

'Just like in chess,' Ron laughed. 'I've got it covered.'

'Ginny,' continued Harry, 'you'll mostly be helping Hermione or Ron, whichever one needs you. You can't come with us when we retrieve the Horcruxes, though I know you'd be very useful.' She smiled and felt warmth inside of her that she was sure wasn't caused by the summer heat outside. Harry thought she'd be useful! Oh, if only her mum would let her go with them. 'Since you'll be staying behind on the missions, if any Order members get hurt, I'd appreciate it if you could help heal them. It would look too suspicious if everyone went to St Mungo's, y'know, so if they aren't serious injuries, we'll be forced to heal them ourselves. There will be first aid kits and I'm sure we can get a few Healers in the Order to help, but we'll need you. Is that okay?'

'Yeah, I can do it, Harry,' she said.

'So when d'you think we'll start the missions?' Ron asked excitedly.

'Why does it matter to you?' Mrs Weasley snapped.

'I'm going, Mum! So is Hermione!' yelled Ron defensively.

'NO, YOU AREN'T!'

'YES, I AM!'

'Harry, knock some sense into this boy. Tell him he isn't going,' demanded Mrs Weasley. Ginny held her breath and studied Harry, sure that he would crack and give in to her mother.

Harry looked uneasily at her. 'He's going, Mrs Weasley. Hermione is, too.'

……………………………………………………………

Ron's head hurt. He had never heard his mother scream so much in his entire life, and that was a huge revelation. His mother _always _screamed about one thing or another. His earliest memory was of her yelling at Fred and George for trying to prank him in some way or another. Speaking of Fred and George, Ron was glad that they had gone back to the shop, because they were getting on his last nerve.

'Glad we got that out of the way,' muttered Harry when the four friends collapsed on the two couches in the sitting room. Ginny sat down beside Harry, so Ron sat beside Hermione. There was no longer that uncomfortable tension between them, like there had been prior to the meeting. Arguing was what they did best, and for once, it was directed at someone other than each other. That was huge for them, and in a way, it was a semi-breakthrough.

'I feel like I need another Hangover Potion,' Ginny laughed. 'Oh, I've completely forgotten about my skin! Am I still as orange as before?' Honestly, Ron had forgotten about her skin, too. It was strange how quickly he'd gotten used to her looking like that.

'No,' answered Hermione. 'Whatever it was that Fred gave you, it worked really well. You're almost back to normal.'

'Yeah, they're lucky,' grumbled Harry. Ron smirked at his friend. He was about to speak when Harry looked up at him and said, 'You never did answer my question.'

'What question?'

'What happened with you two last night?' Ron felt his face heat up.

'Let's just say that Ginny wasn't the only one to suffer, courtesy of the twins,' Hermione sighed.

'What does that mean?' Ginny asked curiously. Hermione laughed. Ron looked around the room, desperate to not meet anybody's eyes. Hermione was about to tell their story, and he almost couldn't bear the sheer humiliation of it all.

'When I woke up this morning, I was in your brother's bed, in almost nothing but my knickers,' she recalled. Ron had to look at his friends when he heard Ginny gasp. His sister's mouth was wide open in shock and Harry's eyes were significantly larger than usual.

'It was just a silly joke!' Ron said hastily. 'We passed out and they put us in there because they knew we'd wake up and be mortified.' He couldn't help the bitterness in his voice, though he had to admit, it was rather nice waking up to Hermione. Perhaps if she hadn't screamed, he would've had time to enjoy it.

'My brothers undressed you? Those sick bastards!' cried Ginny.

'No, they didn't,' said Hermione. 'I was ... already undressed ...'

'In Ron's room?' asked Harry.

'Yes,' Ron and Hermione said in unison.

'You were undressed?' asked Ginny.

'Yes,' they said together.

'_In Ron's bedroom_?' Harry asked again.

'_Yes_.' Hermione sounded annoyed, and Ron sounded embarrassed.

Ginny gave them a skeptical look. 'You two didn't –'

'NO!'

'Are you sure?' she asked.

'Positive,' Ron lied. He wasn't actually sure what happened last night. He couldn't remember anything after an enchanted ceiling in the drawing room. How had they gotten back to the bedroom, anyway?

'We were getting on our pajamas,' laughed Hermione.

'Why –?'

'Don't ask. I have no clue why,' Hermione said. She sounded rather exasperated. Wisely, neither Ginny nor Harry asked any more questions regarding the matter.

They sat in comfortable silence for awhile. Ron started thinking about Grimmauld Place. He hadn't been there since two Christmases ago, when his dad had been bitten by the snake and Harry dreamt about it. He'd never forget that Christmas. His father had almost died, he learned that Harry may have been getting possessed by You-Know-Who, and he finally met Neville's parents – in the closed ward of St Mungo's. Add in Lockhart and Kreacher, and you've got yourself one hell of a Christmas.

'Remember when Buckbeak was right upstairs?' asked Hermione. Apparently, she had been thinking about the house they were currently in, just as Ron had. 'How did the floor not cave in from his weight? I imagine that a Hippogriffis rather heavy.'

'Sirius probably had someone magically enforce the floor,' said Harry. Ron froze. He hadn't heard Harry willingly talk about Sirius since the Department of Mysteries.

'Probably,' murmured Hermione.

Ron was desperate to steer the conversation away from Sirius. 'Remember when Mum made us clean out this entire place?' he asked.

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'We found loads of junk.'

'Some of it was rather nice, though,' objected Ginny. 'I really liked that –'

She paused and got a strange look on her face. After a moment, she gasped so loud that Ron almost couldn't believe it had come from her small body. She immediately got to her feet and looked at Ron, Hermione and Harry with an expression of utmost shock and excitement on her face. She covered her mouth with her hand and gave a squeal.

'Of course! That's it!' she squeaked.

'What's it?' Hermione asked. Ron was relieved to find that he was not the only clueless person in the room, and also pleasantly surprised that Hermione didn't immediately understand what was going on. It was comforting to see her looking puzzled for once.

'What we've – what you – the –'

'Merlin, Ginny, spit it out!' Ron bellowed.

'Why didn't we think of it before?' his sister asked, more to herself than anyone else. 'It's so obvious ...'

'What's obvious?' demanded Harry. 'Just tell us already!' She remained silent for a moment, her brow furrowed and her face scrunched in deep thought.

'It – it had to be ... there's no other place ...' she muttered. She looked up, excitement dancing behind her eyes. 'IT'S HERE!' With that, she scurried off, leaving the confused trio in her wake.

'What was _that _all about?' asked Hermione when Ginny was gone.

'You do that to us all the time,' exclaimed Ron. 'It's bloody annoying, isn't it?'

……………………………………………………………

Hermione went upstairs an hour later to find Ginny tearing through drawers, cupboards, and any other place she could find.

'What are you doing?'

Ginny jumped and whirled around to face her. 'Merlin, don't sneak up on me like that. You nearly scared me to death!'

'Sorry,' said Hermione, though she didn't feel all that sorry. 'But what are you doing in here? If Harry catches you in here, going through the drawers, you're in big trouble.'

'Maybe not,' Ginny beamed. 'I think I've just figured out something important ... I'm not sure yet, though. I need to keep looking. Do me a favour, and tell me if you hear Harry coming.'

Hermione nodded and Ginny turned back to what she was doing. Hermione looked around the dusty bedroom, one that had been vacant for a whole year. She had never been in this room when it was his bedroom, but then again, it would've been rather inappropriate if she had been in there. Inappropriate. Kind of like snooping through all of his things, like Ginny was doing.

Hermione gingerly walked deeper into the room and sat down on the bed. She put her hands up against the cold wall and could feel the energy that was still housed within the room. The pillows were dirty, and if Hermione were to hit them, she could be sure dust would rise up into her face.

There weren't many personal effects in the room, as she noticed upon further inspection of her surroundings. Three pictures were visible; one of Sirius, Lily and James, another of Sirius and Harry, and the last of the three true Marauders, but judging by a gaping hole to the right of Remus Lupin, Hermione could tell that Peter Pettigrew had also been there, but had been magically removed.

The curtains were probably home to several Doxies, and the window beneath the curtains was dirty and looked like it needed a good cleaning. Everything in this room looked like it needed a good cleaning.

But, thought Hermione, there's nobody here to clean it anymore.

They'd never gotten to celebrate the anniversary of Sirius Black's death. Perhaps they were too wrapped up with Dumbledore's passing, or the closing of Hogwarts, or thinking about Horcruxes, or preparations for the wedding, because they never really sat down and acknowledged that it had been a year since Sirius went through the veil. School had been cut short, so they had been on summer holidays on his anniversary. Hermione had known which day it was. Not by looking at a calendar, though she had used one to double-check, but because Hedwig hadn't shown up at The Burrow with a letter on that particular day. She, Ron and Ginny exchanged messages with Harry, via owls, rather often, sometimes even twice or three times a day. Harry had mentioned in one of his earlier letters that he greatly enjoyed the way his uncle hollered every time an owl flew into the house, but Hermione knew his fervor for communication with them was due to loneliness, and the fact that he missed them.

Nobody said anything about it, or bothered to owl Harry and ask if he was alright, when they didn't receive a letter from him that day. As Ginny pointed out, when Mrs Weasley decided he was depressed and needed to be rescued from his aunt and uncle's house immediately, Harry hadn't moped around or complained once about Sirius. He had bounced back almost as if it'd never happened, as if Sirius was still at Grimmauld Place, waiting for their next visit. Don't you think, Ginny had said, that he's earned _one _day of grieving?

So they let Harry grieve. At The Burrow, however, there would be no time for grieving. The wedding was soon approaching, and many important details were yet to be decided and confirmed. It was a madhouse. Not once, during the entire twenty-four hours of the day marking the death of Sirius, did anyone light a candle, say a prayer, or do anything else as a tribute.

They waited until the next morning, when Hedwig arrived during breakfast, before writing their friend, and life went on.

Life was still going on, but as Hermione sat on her dead friend's bed and looked around his empty room, she realized that it hadn't; not really. They were right back where they'd been a year ago, only Sirius was missing. He wasn't upstairs feeding Buckbeak, or locked in a room with the other members of the Order, discussing their next move. He was dead, wandering beyond some strange veil, and he would never come back.

Sirius wasn't there to sleep in his bed, or change his clothes, or even to yell awful things at Kreacher. He was gone. They'd never see him again.

Hermione had gotten used to not seeing Sirius – they hadn't seem him very much in previous years, while away at Hogwarts, anyway – but the fact hit her now in a way that she hadn't expected.

She felt tears sting her eyes as she curled her feet up underneath her body and rested against the wall. She was so consumed in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed Harry enter the room.

'What're you doing?' he demanded. Ron came in behind him. Ginny dropped the object she'd been holding and quickly spun around, casting a dangerous look at Hermione, who was supposed to warn her about Harry. 'What in bloody hell d'you think you're _doing_?'

Hermione hastily wiped her eyes, but made no effort to get up and help Ginny explain. She was rather curious as to what the girl was doing, and was half-hoping Harry would crack her and she'd confess to whatever crazy plan she'd developed.

'Don't be mad,' pleaded Ginny, 'but I'm going through his things.'

'Yeah, I got that,' Harry said dryly. 'Why? He never went through your things.' The look on his face told Hermione that while he acted strong, deep down, he was still the lonely little boy who desperately wanted nothing more than to not be who he was – the famous Harry Potter, the boy who had lost anyone and everyone he cared about. She had a newfound understanding and respect for why Harry had broken up with Ginny, though she still didn't agree with what they were currently doing.

Ginny looked frantically at Hermione and Ron, begging them for help. 'I – I know that I he didn't,' she muttered. 'I thought you'd be happy ...'

'Why would I be happy that you're rifling through Sirius's old things?'

'Because,' said Ginny, looking exasperated, 'I've just found your bloody Horcrux.'

……………………………………………………………


	9. The Horcrux

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Chapter Nine: The Horcrux  
**……………………………………………………………

'You _what?_' asked Harry, his disbelief evident in his tone. She couldn't have found a Horcux. Not at Grimmauld Place!

'I found a Horcrux,' Ginny said slowly, as if she were talking to a first year.

'Where?' asked Ron, from somewhere behind Harry.

'Here,' Ginny said simply before turning back to Sirius's things. She sat down on the floor and began digging through piles of old possessions, muttered incoherently. Harry turned to Hermione, whose eyes were glistening in an unusual way, and noticed the curious expression she wore. Catching her eye, she shrugged, but didn't get up from the bed. When Harry glanced at Ron, he found the same expression on his friend's face. He walked over to Ginny and dropped to his knees. She didn't look up.

'What d'you mean?' asked Harry. Had she lost her mind? Sirius didn't have a Horcrux! He would've told Harry if he had. He felt his stomach tense uncomfortably as Ginny continued muttering and picked through the pile of things more determinedly. 'Gin, would you quit searching for one second and explain to us what you're going on about?'

She sighed; looking extremely put out, she shifted to face them. 'I've found a Horcrux, Harry.'

'You've already said that,' said Hermione, from the bed. Harry, who was still on his knees beside Ginny, looked up at Ron for help.

Ron then added, 'Yeah, what're you talking about? How could you have found one here?'

'Y'know,' said Ginny angrily, 'you lot could at least _pretend _to believe it's possible that I'm right, instead of staring at me like I should be locked up in St Mungo's or something.'

Hermione was the first to react. 'We're sorry, Ginny, but this is very surprising. We were hanging out and you suddenly ran out of the room, mumbling something that none of us understood, and now you're looking for a Horcrux in Sirius's things. It doesn't make much sense.' Harry was relieved when Ginny nodded; obviously realizing that Hermione had a point.

'Well, we were downstairs talking about this place and about the time we had to clean it out,' explained Ginny. Harry nodded anxiously at her. 'Then I remembered some of the things we found and how not all of it was, as you put it, _junk_.'

'Like what?' asked Harry, still not seeing what this had to do with a Horcrux.

'Like,' Ginny said, smiling oddly, 'a locket.' Harry gave her a confused expression. 'A locket, kind of like the one you and Professor Dumbledore were looking for ...'

Harry scoffed. 'You don't really believe that the locket we found _here _was a Horcrux, do you?' he asked. He didn't want to believe her, but panic rose inside of him when he realized that, if she was right, they might have thrown it out – or worse, Kreacher might've taken it and now Voldemort would have it in his possession again.

'I know it sounds a little ... strange, but yes, I do,' said Ginny, bringing him out of his thoughts. 'We couldn't open it, remember? And I don't know about any of you, but I remember thinking that there was something definitely odd about it.'

Ron sat down beside Hermione on the bed, his face twisted into one of deep thought and perplexity. 'But there are millions of lockets out there, what makes you think that –?'

'She's right!' exclaimed Hermione.

Ginny grinned triumphantly. 'Put two and two together, have you?' she asked. Hermione nodded excitedly and sat up straighter on the bed. 'You see, Harry –' she held a look of defiance on her face when she spoke to him 'I figured you'd have your doubts if I just told you that there was a locket here that _might _be the one we're looking for. You need more than that to back up my theory, right?' Harry nodded. 'Tell us, please, what happened when you opened the fake Horcrux that you found with Dumbledore.'

'There was a note inside, and whoever wrote it said they stole the real one and were going to destroy it. The person said they knew they'd die for what they'd done, but they hoped that Voldemort would become mortal again,' said Harry. He'd read the note over and over since leaving Hogwarts. While at Privet Drive, he'd thought quite a bit about the note – although, at Hogwarts, he'd sworn up and down to himself that he wouldn't become inquisitive about the matter – wondering what it meant and who had written it.

'And tell us, if you can still remember, what the signature on that note was,' Ginny said calmly.

'R.A.B., but Gin, what does –?'

'Oh, for Merlin's sake, you don't get it yet?' barked Hermione.

'No ...' Harry admitted. 'Ron?'

Ron shook his head. 'I'm just as lost as you are, mate. I don't know anyone with those initials.'

'Of course you don't know him,' Ginny sighed. 'He's dead.'

'Then how d'you know him?' Ron asked irritably. He, like Harry, didn't like being kept in the dark about things, especially since Ginny and Hermione seemed to be enjoying their confusion so much.

'Harry,' said Hermione, 'can you think of anyone whose last name starts with "B"?'

Harry furrowed his brow. 'Brown?' he asked. Ron snorted. Hermione rolled her eyes and Ginny shook her head. 'Um ... Bones?'

'They didn't go to Hogwarts with us,' hinted Ginny.

'Bloody hell, quit playing games and just tell us,' Ron demanded.

A light bulb went off in Harry's head. They were in Grimmauld Place, after all. Clearly the Blacks would have something to do with Ginny's theory. He yelled, 'Black!'

'Exactly!' cried Hermione excitedly.

'But Sirius wasn't –'

'Not Sirius, you idiot!' bellowed Ginny. 'You two are awfully thick, y'know.' She couldn't contain her small smile and broke into an all-out grin.

'Think of the family tree,' offered Hermione.

Harry tried to picture the tree in his mind. All the Blacks were dead, so there was no process of elimination. He could think of no one with the fitting initials, though the only other people on the tree that he could remember were Tonks, Bellatrix Lestrange and the Malfoys.

'Regulus?' Ron asked. Hermione squealed and nodded furiously. Ginny stared at her brother in slight disbelief before nodding along. 'I though Sirius told you he was a Death Eater, though?'

Harry went back in time, close to two whole years ago, to his conversation with Sirius. 'Yeah, he was. But Sirius said he tried to get out, and one of the others killed him.' Ginny smiled at him and raised her eyebrows, waiting to hear his opinion. 'You don't think that –'

'You bet your arse I do,' was her reply. 'So? D'you think I'm right?'

Regulus Black had been killed around the same time Harry had been born. He was a Death Eater, probably one of the more important ones, given that he was a Black, and therefore knew about many curses and spells and other things that were of interest to Voldemort. Voldemort had given Lucius Malfoy the diary to hold onto, could he have perhaps let Regulus in on its importance? Could Regulus have discovered that there were others, as well? Having decided that he was not cut out to be a Death Eater and knew that he would soon be killed for wanting to leave the ranks, had he set out to destroy a Horcrux and eliminate some of Voldemort's soul?

Harry found it hard to believe that there was good left in someone like Regulus Black, someone who had willingly become a Death Eater.

Sirius went to Azkaban for the murders of twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew, and all the while everyone was convinced he had led Voldemort to the Potters, when he hadn't done anything other than be a best friend to them and try to extract revenge on Pettigrew.

He almost died in Azkaban, but he broke out to see Harry. He broke out of a place where it was impossible to feel happy or to love, only to smile, laugh and love again.

Could people change?

Had Pettigrew wanted to change, only to realize he was in too deep? He was a coward, afraid of dying, and was most likely forced to go along with whatever Voldemort told him to do. But Harry felt no sympathy for him. He was a bastard, and Harry wished with every fiber of his being that Pettigrew suffered the most excruciatingly painful death imaginable. How would that be, for someone who feared death?

Perhaps Regulus was like Pettigrew, with one major difference: he would rather die than live as Voldemort's servant for another second.

'You – well ... maybe you could be right,' said Harry. He tried to sound indifferent, though his insides felt as though they were in his throat and his mind was already running with the idea. He was so excited that he could've kissed Ginny – except Ron was there, and he would've beaten Harry to a bloody pulp. 'Let's go,' he said, standing up and running out of the room. He ran down the stairs, not caring that he almost tripped several times, and was relieved to see that the Order members hadn't left yet.

'Harry!' called Ginny from the stairs. She was running after him, Hermione and Ron behind her. 'What're you doing?'

'Finding that Horcrux,' he answered.

……………………………………………………………

Ron's head was spinning. He still wasn't totally sure what was going on, but he got the general idea. If Ginny was right – and it looked like she was, judging by the way Hermione was hanging off of her every word – that meant they might know where another Horcrux was. That meant Ginny was a bloody genius, if she figured that all out in five seconds; while it took him and Harry almost a bloody half hour just to realize what she was talking about.

'Professor McGonagall,' Harry yelled as they followed him into the kitchen. 'Professor!'

'What is it, Potter?' barked McGonagall, looking rather disconcerted by the way Harry came scrambling into the room, shouting for her.

'We know where another Horcrux is!' Hermione exclaimed, coming to stand beside Ron, panting slightly.

McGonagall turned serious, as did the other members. 'What do you mean, Granger?'

'We don't know for sure,' Harry said sternly, shooting Hermione a glare. 'The note that I gave you earlier, the one about R.A.B. ... we think we know who R.A.B. is.'

'Who is it, Harry?' asked Lupin.

'Regulus Black,' said Harry.

'Sirius's brother?' Tonks asked incredulously. 'But he was a –'

'Death Eater, we know,' Harry said quickly. 'But it all fits. He was killed because he went against Voldemort, and what better way to go against Voldemort than by stealing part of his soul and trying to destroy it?'

'Yes, well, provided that his middle name begins with an "A", that works rather nicely,' Kingsley piped up. 'But how can we be sure it was him? And can we really trust that, if he really did write the note, he managed to destroy it?'

'When we were cleaning this place up a few summers ago,' began Harry, 'we found a bunch of old Black heirlooms and other things. One of those things was a locket, and even though Mrs Weasley tried all sorts of spells and other things, none of us could open it up.'

'That's right,' confirmed Mrs Weasley. 'I remember that.'

'We think Regulus died before he could destroy it, so he hid it here for safekeeping,' Ginny said confidently.

'Is there any way to test the object, to be able to determine if it was really a Horcrux?' inquired Hermione.

'I would need the object first,' explained McGonagall. 'Is it lying around here somewhere?' Ron began to get nervous. They had thrown that junk out. What were the chances that one of the girls decided it was pretty and had saved it from meeting its fate in the rubbish bin?

'Er ... not exactly,' said Ron. 'Mum and Sirius made us throw a lot of the stuff out.'

'I know where it is,' said Harry. Everyone stared at him eagerly. 'Mundungus has it.'

'Why would he have it?' Bill asked.

'Professor Dumbledore brought it to my attention one day that he had been stealing things from Headquarters,' explained McGonagall. 'You believe he took the locket, Potter?'

'Yes,' said Harry.

'He must've,' Ginny agreed. 'I didn't find it anywhere, and I've been searching this entire place for over an hour!'

McGonagall nodded. 'I was on my way over to Hogwarts, to speak to Albus, so I will inform him of our recent discoveries. While I am there, I suppose I can consult Phineas Nigellus and see if he happens to know the middle name of his great-great-grandson. I will then pay Mundungus Fletcher a visit.' She winked at Harry when she said this, and Ron couldn't help but grin. Professor McGonagall, though strict at times, wasn't that bad. 'In the mean time –' she turned to regard Mr and Mrs Weasley 'keep them here. When I return – assuming that I've managed to obtain the locket – we shall administer the proper tests and, provided they prove that you are correct, we can destroy the Horcrux.'

'Excellent,' said Mr Weasley.

'I presume it was you, Miss Granger, who came to this conclusion?' asked McGonagall. Hermione smiled softly but shook her head. McGonagall looked puzzled.

'Actually, Professor, Ginny figured it out,' said Harry. He smiled knowingly at her. 'I told you she was useful.' Ginny blushed.

McGonagall only nodded, but Ron didn't miss the look in her eyes as she glanced at Ginny. There was a sense of pride there, perhaps even a trace of an apology for not trusting Harry's decision, for doubting Ginny's capability.

The four friends waited until they were safely back upstairs, close to twenty minutes later, before celebrating.

'You're brilliant!' exclaimed Hermione as she hugged Ginny. Ron and Harry grinned and slapped each other on the back.

'Yeah, Hermione had better watch her back, because you're about to take over her title as Miss Know-It-All,' said Ron as he hugged his sister. Hermione, who was hugging Harry a little too enthusiastically for Ron's liking, glared at him and rolled his eyes.

Ron didn't particularly like the way Harry hugged Ginny. He wrapped his arms tightly around her middle, just as he'd done the night they won the Quidditch Cup ... right before he kissed her. That kiss led to other things – i.e. more snogging, which evolved into a relationship, which turned into his sister nursing a broken heart, one that his best friend gave to her – and he refused to let it happen again. But when he saw Ginny smile and wrap her arms around his neck, Ron bit his tongue and said nothing. Perhaps later, when they were alone, he and Harry would have words. But not right now. He was snapped out of his trance and stopped watching them when a pair of arms wrapped tightly around him and the scent of strawberries hit him. He put his arms around Hermione and tried not to make it too obvious that he was thoroughly enjoying the physical contact with her.

When they broke apart – far too quickly, in Ron's opinion – he noticed that Harry and Ginny were whispering. Ron strained to hear what they were saying but Hermione cleared her throat and conjured up a chessboard, saying that they would be staying at Headquarters for awhile and should busy themselves to pass the time.

……………………………………………………………

'I take it that it'd seem a bit inappropriate to kiss you right now?' whispered Harry.

Ginny laughed. Playfully hitting his arm, she replied, 'Yes, unless you want to use Sirius's room.' She smiled at him and briefly thought that it might not be such a bad idea. Harry grinned at her and she mentally prepared an excuse – cleaning up the mess she'd left on the bedroom floor seemed like a good one – for why she and Harry would be slipping away.

'I'm sure he'd be glad to know it was being put to good use,' he joked, but there was sadness in his eyes as he spoke about Sirius that betrayed him. She turned back to her brother, who was trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably. Had he heard them?

When he didn't say anything to either of them, Ginny relaxed a bit and settled in to watch as Hermione attempted to beat Ron at chess, something she'd never succeeded in doing before. This time proved no different, as Ron smirked at her and said, 'Checkmate.'

Hermione sighed and challenged him to another game, and Ron was happy to oblige. He would never pass up the chance to best Hermione at something, even if it wasn't something extremely important. Chess was Ron's area of expertise, and there was no denying it. Nobody in Hogwarts had ever beaten him, though many of them had given it a shot on more than one occasion.

'I'm going to go put Sirius's things back where they belong,' announced Harry, standing up and walking away from the game of chess.

'D'you want help?' Ginny asked, feeling guilty about the inconsiderate way she just marched up to his godfather's room and tore through his things. At the time, she'd been far too excited to particularly care if she was being a bit tactless.

'No, it's alright,' said Harry. 'It'll only take the flick of a wand. I'll be right back.'

Ginny nodded and watched as Harry left the room. She yawned and rested her head in her hand as her brother and Hermione battled on the chessboard. For a short while, it actually looked like Hermione might scrape out a win, but Ron quickly realized her strategy and emerged victorious once more. As they neared the end of their next game, Ginny realized that Harry still hadn't returned.

'Does anyone have any idea what's keeping Harry?' she asked. Ron grunted and shrugged. Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. He hated to be disturbed during a game of chess. It was one of the few things he actually took seriously.

'He's probably in the kitchen getting something to eat. Why don't you go find him and bring us back some food?' suggested Hermione.

'Okay, I'll be right back,' Ginny said, standing up.

'Sure, that's what they all say,' Ron muttered lightheartedly as one of his pieces smashed Hermione's knight to bits.

Ginny smiled and left the room. She knew Harry wasn't in the kitchen. She climbed a set of stairs and quietly walked down the corridor, stopping outside of the room that once belonged to Sirius. She could see Harry sitting on the bed, leaning up against the wall.

'Harry?' she whispered, walking into the room and making her presence known. Harry didn't look at her. He continued to stare in another direction, and Ginny guessed that his eyes were fixed on the photos on the wall.

'He hated it here,' was all Harry said. Ginny nodded softly and sat down beside him on the bed. 'He hated his family and he hated this house. Look at this place. It's so dark and dreary. It's no wonder he ran away when he was sixteen.'

'I never knew he did that,' said Ginny quietly, her eyes sweeping the room. The mess she'd made was now gone.

Harry nodded, but still didn't turn to face her. 'He told me he stayed at my dad's house.' He shifted a bit to get more comfortable. 'That's how much he hated it here. He literally ran away and started living alone, in his own flat, when he was just seventeen,' he explained. 'He hated this place more than any other place in the world ... maybe even more than Azkaban.'

'Oh, Harry, I'm sure that Azkaban –'

'The Dementors suck all the happiness out of you, yes, but that didn't affect him. He had no happiness in him anymore; don't you get that, Gin?' asked Harry. He sighed heavily. 'Every time I think about Lily and James Potter, I only see them as my parents. But look –' he pointed to the picture of Sirius and his parents on the opposite wall. 'They were his best friends, and when they were killed, it affected him, too. It wasn't just me –'

'– Harry –'

'– He was in Azkaban for twelve years,' continued Harry, ignoring her. 'And all the while, he knew he didn't deserve to be there. He knew that Wormtail had betrayed all of them, but nobody else did. He had to live with that everyday. He had to live with the fact that Lupin thought he murdered my parents, and that everyone else – even _me _– did, too.'

'It must've been terrible,' Ginny whispered.

'Yeah.'

'But we all came around, y'know. Lupin knows he was innocent, and mostly importantly, so do you,' said Ginny. 'At least he died knowing that.' Harry idly put an arm around her and she sank down onto him, her head resting on his chest.

'I guess you're right,' Harry said. 'I wish he hadn't spent his final months here, though. And it doesn't feel right to me ... being here. I don't just mean being in this room. I mean the whole house.' Ginny nodded into his chest and said nothing. Harry hadn't voluntarily opened up like this to her before, and she didn't want to speak now and stop him. 'I hate that we're stuck here. I want to leave so badly. Right now, I'd rather be with the Dursleys, locked up in my old cupboard, than be sitting in this place.'

Ginny sighed. She didn't like feeling helpless, but there was nothing she could do or say that would help Harry. She couldn't bring Sirius – or even his parents, for that matter – back from the dead. She couldn't make McGonagall appear, so they could get rid of the Horcrux and get back to The Burrow as soon as possible. She couldn't even guarantee that the locket _was _a Horcrux, and that only made her feel worse. What if she had been wrong, and had only gotten everyone's hopes up for nothing?

Harry took a deep breath. 'I miss him.'

'I know you do,' replied Ginny. 'I do, too.' She sniffed, willing herself not to cry. She thought of Sirius, the one who told her jokes and stayed up with her family all night when her father had been attacked. She sniffed again, cursing herself as Harry comforted her. She was supposed to be strong for him, not the other way around!

There was a long silence, one that Ginny estimated had spanned for more than half an hour. She decided that they were finished talking, and was about to get up when Harry said quietly, 'I can't end up like him.'

Ginny sat up abruptly and stared at him. She had never seen him like this. He was so ... broken. She felt tears sting her eyes as Harry stared, unblinkingly, at the picture of the parents he never knew, and the godfather he didn't get to know well enough.

And suddenly, she knew why they had to keep their relationship a secret, at least for the moment.

In many ways, Sirius had suffered far more than any of the others had. Harry had the impending battle with Voldemort constantly hanging over his head, but he had friends and family constantly around him, helping him. For twelve years, Sirius had nothing and no one. Even once he escaped from the Dementors, he had no freedom, no true happiness. He had only Remus and Harry. They were the only things in the world that connected his new life to his past life, the life when James Potter was his best friend and Peter Pettigrew was just quiet and seemed a little odd at times. He lived for Harry, and because of that, he died for Harry.

Gradually, throughout his life, Sirius had lost everything that had ever meant anything at all to him. First, he lost his family, then his best friends, then his freedom.

Harry had already lost his family. Did he think he'd lose his friends, too? Did he think he'd lose her?

She wanted to tell him that he wouldn't end up like Sirius and that she'd never leave him, but she couldn't. She couldn't make that promise, not without knowing that it could be broken at any moment. She hoped he knew that she'd do everything in her power to keep that from happening, though.

He looked at her. Watery brown eyes met tormented emerald ones. She knew, and he knew. For now, that was enough. They would talk at the wedding, the plans had not been changed, but for now, Ginny could almost live with not being with Harry. Because, in the end, it was about Harry. It always was – for her, at least. And she couldn't, for the life of her, see a problem with that.

A tear ran down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb, unsuccessfully trying to smile. She sniffed and Harry pulled her to him once more, tightening his grip on her slightly. She buried her face in his chest and cried. She cried for Sirius, for Harry, for Dumbledore, for everyone who would suffer because of Voldemort and for everyone who already had. She wished he would cry ... she knew he needed to. But he didn't. He just stayed there, stroking her hair and staring at the pictures, until Hermione found them later and announced that Professor McGonagall was back.

……………………………………………………………

'Something's going on with them,' Ron told Hermione as they set up for another round of chess.

'What do you mean?' asked Hermione, although she knew immediately what he meant.

'Oh, come off it. Of course you've noticed it, you aren't the smartest witch in our year for nothing,' insisted Ron. 'They've been gone for an hour now.'

'Well, yes, but I don't think anything is _going_ _on_,' she lied. She didn't particularly enjoy lying to Ron, but she had to in this instance. The truth was that something _was _going on between Harry and Ginny, but she had been put in an awkward position, and was being forced to cover for them. Not only for them, but herself, too. If Ron found out that she'd known and hadn't said anything, she'd be in for quite the row. Not that she minded – the majority of their conversations resorted to screaming and insulting each other – but it would be different if they had a real reason to fight. Hermione had never before given one of her friends a reason not to trust her, but she would definitely deserve it if Ron found out and she lost his trust.

'Maybe we should go find them,' he suggested. 'They can't be in the kitchen getting food. It wouldn't have taken them this long.'

'This is a big place, Ron,' she said. 'Perhaps Harry wanted to take a tour ... it's _his _house now, after all.'

Ron stood up. 'I'm going to find them. Are you coming?'

'I suppose,' she said wearily, rising to her feet and following him out of the room.

'Where should we start?' he asked.

'Probably Sirius's bedroom,' answered Hermione. She didn't think they'd walk in on them shagging – not just because four members of her immediate family were in the house, but also because she and Ginny had had several talks about things like that, and both had always thought waiting until marriage was appropriate – but she feared that they'd be in a heated snog when she and Ron found them.

They climbed the stairs, her anxiety growing with each step, until they were right outside of the bedroom. She could hear them talking, and took it as a good sign.

'... At least he died knowing that,' she heard Ginny say. She and Ron exchanged glances, Hermione's of concern and Ron's of confusion. She mouthed, 'Sirius', and a look of recognition dawned on his face.

'I guess you're right. I wish he hadn't spent his final months here, though. And it doesn't feel right to me, being here,' Harry said quietly. Hermione suddenly felt very uncomfortable with herself as she and Ron stood outside the room, out of sight, listening to their conversation. They didn't dare get too close to the door, in case they were discovered. 'I don't just mean being in this room. I mean the whole house. I hate that we're stuck here. I want to leave so badly. Right now, I'd rather be with the Dursleys, locked up in my old cupboard, than be sitting in this place.'

Hermione hung her head and Ron sighed.

'I miss him,' Harry admitted.

Hermione, who had attempted numerous times to get Harry to talk about Sirius, was shocked at how easily he and Ginny were talking about him. She looked at Ron, to see if he realized the importance of there conversation, but he looked more relieved that anything else. She wasn't even sure he was still listening to the conversation. He seemed convinced that everything was okay, and they turned to leave.

'I know you do. I do, too.'

When Ginny sniffed, she saw Ron tense up and they both stopped walking. Was Ginny crying? They heard another sniff and she was positive it came from Ginny. Ron looked uncomfortable again. He turned and silently walked back to the room, poking his head in. When he didn't get caught, Hermione followed and also peered into the room. Harry was sideways on the bed, leaning up against the wall. Ginny was resting her head against his chest and his arm was casually but comfortingly draped around her.

She didn't miss the small (if slightly worried) smile that crept across Ron's face as they tiptoed away from the doorway and went down a set of stairs, back to their game of chess.

'This is boring!' Hermione groaned when Ron beat her again.

'Only because you're losing,' teased Ron.

'Perhaps you're just not that interesting, did you ever think of that?'

'I'm very interesting! You know you like my company,' he said. She wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. It would've been a lot easier if she hadn't been smiling, too.

'I admit nothing,' she said stubbornly. She stretched and got up from the chair she'd been sitting in. 'I'm so bored.'

'Well, you read a book or something.'

'I didn't bring one. If I had known we'd be here for so long, I obviously would have. I'm not stupid, you know.'

Ron grinned. 'Are you sure about that?'

'Excuse me?' She narrowed her eyes and rested her hands on her hips. 'You'd better take that back,' she said in a dangerous tone.

'No.' He stood up, bringing himself to his full height, forcing Hermione to tilt her head up, almost uncomfortably, to look at him. 'There's a whole library around here somewhere, or have you forgotten?'

'Oh,' she said quietly. 'Right, yes, I can just read one of those.' She took a few steps closer, making her way to the door, but Ron was still in her path. He didn't move.

'Right,' he agreed. She unconsciously licked her lips. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and she felt a shiver go down her spine. His hand rested on her cheek, and after an eternity of staring at each other, they began to lean in. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut and her breathing hitched as they got closer. Someone cleared their throat from behind Ron. They jumped back from one another and Hermione looked angrily towards the door, ready to hex whoever had cleared their throat and disturbed them.

'_Oh_ – I'm sorry ...' Lupin apologized quickly, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. 'I can come back, if –'

'No! No, Professor. We were just, um, playing chess,' mumbled Hermione, gesturing toward the chessboard. She could be a convincing liar when she wanted to be, but the deep blush on her cheeks obviously betrayed her this time.

'Yes, of course you were,' Lupin said slyly. He held a rather amused look on his face as he nodded, pretending to believe the obvious lie. 'Molly's making lunch. She sent me up here to see if you wanted some.'

'_Yes_, I'm starving,' Ron said dramatically.

'Yes, please,' said Hermione.

'Where are Harry and Ginny? Do they want anything?' questioned Lupin.

'Have Mum to make some extra for them, and if they don't eat it, I will,' answered Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes. He could eat anything, and not gain a single pound. She hated him for it.

'Okay, I'm going now,' said Lupin. 'Have fun with your chess game.'

'Shut up,' said Ron, though he was smiling. 'And tell Mum to hurry up with that food!'

'Ron! You have no manners whatsoever, do you know that?'

'Bugger off, Hermione, you aren't my mother.'

'Well aren't you a quick one? Although I'm fairly certain your mother has at least _tried _to teach you a thing or two about politeness.'

'Okay, fine, I'll be polite. _Please _get off my back and leave me alone. _Thank you_.'

Hermione scowled. 'Honestly ...'

Lupin still stood in the doorway, watching the two as if they were a show put on for his entertainment. He snapped out of it and disappeared from view, heading back down to the kitchen where the rest of the adults were.

Ron coughed and looked away from her, running a hand through his hair. He looked about as embarrassed as she felt. She hoped it was because of Lupin walking in on them, and not because of what almost happened.

'I think I'm going to go get that book now.'

He moved and she left the room, rushing upstairs to the library and grabbing a book at random. It didn't matter what the subject was. Ron had almost kissed her! Her mind wouldn't let her focus on a silly old _book_ now, anyway. She made her way back to where she'd left Ron and collapsed into a comfy chair. She let her eyes skim over the words, still not taking anything in. She was vaguely away that the book was entitled _Dark Arts and Even Darker Wizards_, but she expected nothing else in the House of Black.

'What's taking McGonagall so long?' complained Ron as Hermione turned to _Chapter Eight: Grindelwald_ in her book. They'd already had lunch, not bothering to get Harry and Ginny, and played a few more games of chess. 'I mean, what's so difficult about Apparating to Hogwarts, having a quick word with Dumbledore, Apparating to wherever Mundungus is, getting the locket, and Apparating back here? How long could that possibly take?'

Hermione put her book down and sighed. 'I expect it would take a _very _long time, considering you _cannot Apparate in or out of the Hogwarts grounds_. Honestly, how many times must I tell you that? One day, I'm going to force you to read _Hogwarts:A History_.'

'No, you're not. I'd sooner die than read that book,' he exaggerated.

'I don't know what's sadder: the fact that you'd willingly give your life before you would read a book or the fact that I somewhat believe you when you say that.'

Ron shrugged. 'Whatever. Besides, I don't need to read it. You talk about it so bloody much that I already know half of it off by heart, I'm sure.'

'Apparently not, considering you stilldon't remember something as simple as the Apparition restrictions,' she said tiredly. 'If you'd just pay even an ounce of attention to –'

'Sorry to interrupt again,' said Lupin, 'but Minerva is back.'

Both Hermione and Ron jumped up and bolted out of the room. Hermione remembered Harry and Ginny, and went to tell them that McGonagall was back. When they all gathered in the kitchen, Professor McGonagall was smiling, something Hermione took as a good sign.

'Well?' Ron asked impatiently when they all entered the kitchen. Hermione rolled her eyes at his lack of good manners.

'Hello, sit down,' she said. The four sat. 'I spoke with Albus, and he seemed to agree with your theory about Regulus and the locket. After my talk with him, I set out to find Mundungus. After much ... _persuasion_, he confessed that he had stolen the locket, and he handed it over.' She reached into her robes and pulled out an old locket. It looked as influenced by Dark magic as anything Hermione had ever seen before ... but perhaps that was just because she felt sure it contained a seventh of Voldemort's soul. 'I didn't tell him its true purpose, of course. I let him think I simply wanted it for my own purposes.'

'How did you get him to voluntarily give it to you?' questioned Harry. 'I don't expect he was very willing to part ways with anything he'd stolen from Sirius.'

McGonagall flashed a playful smile. 'Let's just say I know a good hex or two, and Mundungus didn't seem too keen on being on the receiving end of one.'

'I would've loved to have seen that,' commented Ron.

'Yes, well, now it is time to run the appropriate tests, so we can be certain this is a Horcrux, and not just an ordinary locket,' McGonagall said, pulling out her wand. Everyone gathered around to watch. 'Albus let me in on a handy spell during our visit. If this truly is a Horcrux, we'll know.'

'How?' asked Tonks.

'Trust me; we'll be able to tell.'

McGonagall muttered a spell that Hermione had never heard before, and nothing happened. Her chest clenched and her heart sank. They were wrong. It wasn't a Horcrux. All that excitement for nothing, it seemed. She couldn't understand it. Everything seemed to fit: the initials matched up, the actual object was in the house where Regulus had lived ... they should've been right. Why didn't anything happen?

As if on cue, the locket began to glow a deep purple. Ginny gasped and Ron exclaimed, 'Bloody hell!'

McGonagall smiled and waved her wand again; the light died out. 'I think we have our answer,' she concluded.

'What now?' asked Mrs Weasley. 'How do we destroy it?' She looked expectantly at Harry, who shrugged.

'I will take care of it,' McGonagall said. She cleared her throat and began speaking in what sounded like another language. It reminded Hermione of the time she had heard Harry speaking Parseltongue and couldn't comprehend a word he had said.

She continued repeating the same few sentences, over and over, flicking and swishing her wand in one continuous motion. Hermione was almost positive she was speaking some type of Italian, and she scolded herself for not knowing enough of the language to understand what McGonagall was saying. She finally concluded the spell with a different sentence, which appeared to be in yet another language (Ron later swore he heard her say something about sandwiches during her incantation), and the Horcrux broke off into small pieces and crumbled to dust. A rather frightening puff of green smoke rose out of the locket and as it began to take shape, it vanished into the air.

'Three down,' growled Moody, 'three to go.'

'And then we get Voldemort,' Harry said in a menacing, determined tone.

……………………………………………………………

**Special thanks to MuggleNet, where I first read about the theory on RAB!**

**Reviews are always appreciated.**


	10. Romania

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

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**Chapter Ten: Romania  
**……………………………………………………………

Harry and Ron entered into the kitchen of The Burrow three days later, having successfully passed their Apparition tests (Ron's eyebrows rested firmly on their rightful places above his eyes), with Mr Weasley behind them. Both boys were grinning proudly.

'You passed!' Hermione yelled, jumping up from her chair to hug them both.

'Where's Mum?' asked Ron. Hermione and Ginny exchanged looks and Harry's chest tightened uncomfortably. Had something happened?

'At Grimmauld Place,' said Ginny. 'They all are. We had to stay behind and wait for you three to get back so we could explain everything and Floo there together.'

Harry stared anxiously at her. 'Well? Tell us already!'

'They've found another Horcrux,' said Hermione.

'What? Where'd they find it?' questioned Ron.

'Well, they aren't absolutely sure,' explained Ginny. 'Dumbledore told McGonagall that he'd planned on checking the location this summer, but ...you know.'

'He's almost certain that there's a Horcrux hidden there,' continued Hermione. 'The problem is that nobody can be certain if it's the cup, or if it's another one. If it's another one, we –'

'Won't know what it'll look like ...right,' said Harry quickly. 'But there's only one way to find out. Let's get to Grimmauld Place.'

'How?' asked Ron. 'It's not on the Floo network, is it?'

'Yes,' said Mr Weasley, 'it should be. But let's move. We'll need to hurry.'

Mr Weasley ushered everyone to the fireplace. He grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and threw it into the fire, making the flames rise higher and turn an emerald colour. Hermione went first, yelling, 'Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!' Ron followed suit, then Ginny, then Harry.

Harry stumbled out of the fire and into Grimmauld Place, right in the middle of a crazy, hectic Order meeting. Mrs Weasley ushered the four deep into the kitchen, followed by Mr Weasley, who emerged from the fireplace after Harry. Bill was yelling coordinates across the kitchen to Tonks, who was hastily jotting them down on a piece of parchment. Lupin was hunched over a large map that covered most of the kitchen table, and as Tonks relayed the coordinated to him, Kingsley enthusiastically pointed on the map, saying things like, 'Yes, yes, there, I've found it,' and 'Rather far, don't you think?' Mad-Eye Moody and McGonagall were in deep conversation, with Moody gesturing wildly and McGonagall's arms crossed over her chest, her foot tapping impatiently, telling Harry that he would be wise to stay away from them for the time being.

'You four,' ordered McGonagall when she broke away from Moody. 'Get over here.'

'What's going on, Professor?' questioned Harry as he, Ron, Ginny and Hermione rushed over to her.

'Well, there's a lot to explain,' said McGonagall. 'For the past year and a half, Charlie Weasley has spent much of his time in Romania trying to recruit Aurors and other powerful witches and wizards for the Order. It was a rather easy feat, considering...'

'Considering what?' asked Hermione.

'Right, yes, you wouldn't know, would you? Back in the days when Lord Voldemort was starting to establish himself as a powerful dark wizard,' McGonagall explained, 'he was known for his unpredictability. He wanted everyone, all over the world, to know and fear his name. He, along with his following of Death Eaters, would appear in random places and slay wizards and Muggles alike. One of the most gruesome and terrifying massacres to ever take place was done by Lord Voldemort, in Romania, several decades ago. He murdered witches, wizards, Muggles ...even _children_.' Hermione gasped. 'So, naturally, it was easy to find people willing to participate. Many lost family members, or were simply tired of living in fear, and joined forces with us to extract revenge and make Romania a safe place for them and their loved ones.'

'What does that have to do with a Horcrux?' Harry asked impatiently.

'I didn't tell you this yet, but when I spoke to Albus and he first told me about the Horcruxes, he informed me that he had intended on traveling to Romania and searching for a Horcrux this summer. He had even planned on bringing you, Potter,' McGonagall said.

'But ...why would there be a Horcrux there?' asked Ron.

'Because Voldemort needed a truly important place to stash a part of his soul,' Ginny breathed.

'Precisely, Miss Weasley,' affirmed McGonagall. 'The attack on Romania was legendary. It was one of the instances that truly solidified Lord Voldemort's status in our world.'

'Oh ...but how do you know _exactly _where the Horcrux will be, if all of Romania was targeted?' asked Hermione.

'It was only a specific area, for one thing,' said Bill, who had finished giving coordinates and had joined the conversation. 'And Charlie was given orders to get a group together and start searching for the object the day after Dumbledore's burial. His team doesn't know they're actually looking for a Horcrux, though. They're only doing spells to detect high levels of magic, so they can hopefully find the right place. It should be a dead giveaway once they find it, since it will no doubt be protected by a ton of spells and enchantments.'

'That's why Charlie was home for a few days?' Ginny asked, realization dawning on her. 'He said he came to do something for the Order, but he wouldn't tell me exactly what it was.'

'Yes, that is why he was here. He was giving a progress report,' McGonagall explained. 'He had a breakthrough recently. I've just arrived back, actually. I spent the last two days in Romania, to see things for myself. I wanted to make sure everything was in order before I called you lot in and we all left.'

'Left?'

'Yes, Miss Weasley. _Left_. Or have you forgotten that these three are coming along on our missions to destroy Horcruxes?'

Ginny blushed and Harry felt a stab of anger. McGonagall didn't have to sound so hostile, did she? Ginny only asked a simple question, after all.

'No, sorry, I'm aware. I just didn't think you'd all be leaving right away,' said Ginny.

McGonagall nodded. 'Yes, well, we have reason to believe that Voldemort has caught wind of our plans and therefore we must act much faster than we'd generally prefer to.' She cleared her throat and looked at Hermione. 'We intend on leaving very soon. Miss Granger, are your parents aware of your whereabouts, and what you'll be doing in the next few hours?'

'Um ...yes, Professor,' Hermione said. Harry knew she was lying. For someone who was usually against rule-breaking or deception of any kind, Hermione had been rather quick to leave her parents in the dark and lie to cover her tracks. They still didn't know that she'd almost died at the end of fifth year, and they most certainly didn't know it was because their daughter went chasing after the most powerful and dangerous wizard alive. Harry had been told by Ron that when her parents had come to pick her up at the train station after the Department of Mysteries fiasco, and Mr Weasley mentioned something about making sure she was well-rested and healed up, Hermione insisted she had tripped and fallen down the stairs, and that Mr Weasley was just overly-concerned. And her parents, thinking that their dear, sweet Hermione would never lie to them, believed her.

McGonagall gave her a suspicious look, instantly portraying that she didn't believe Hermione's story for a second. 'I know you're of legal age in our world, but I expect it would be quite the nasty shock for them if you were injured while enjoying what they'd expected to be a _safe _stay at the Weasley house. You've told them? You're sure about that, Granger?'

'Positive.'

'Alright then,' McGonagall said wearily. 'Let's get to work, so we can hopefully get in and out with no lives lost.'

Ginny blanched.

Harry tried to laugh, but it came out rather strangled. He shook his head. 'Don't listen to her, we'll be fine,' he said. She nodded, but didn't relax any.

'And you're sure I can't come?' she asked.

'That is to be taken up with your mother, Miss Weasley,' McGonagall said sternly. 'It is not up to me to decide.' Ginny nodded. 'Now, come on. We must hurry.'

An hour later, they were standing in the kitchen with a Portkey, ready to leave.

'Ronald Weasley, I forbid you to go,' Mrs Weasley said for the third time.

'Too bad, Mum, I'm going. You can't stop me, y'know.'

'Hermione, dear, please don't leave,' Mrs Weasley said, rounding on her. 'It's dangerous. What if you got hurt? What would your poor parents think?'

'Mrs Weasley,' said Hermione lightly, 'if I don't go, who'll be there to watch out for these two? I promise you that everything will be okay, really.'

'Harry! Please, Harry, don't do this,' Mrs Weasley begged. 'Leave this to the adults.'

'We'll be fine, I swear. I won't let anything happen to them,' Harry said. He caught Ron rolling his eyes, but said nothing.

'Bill? Talk some sense into them,' Mrs Weasley pleaded. Harry was started to feel badly about things. Because of Harry, another one of her sons was being put in danger. He wasn't stupid; he knew that telling Ron he'd decided Ron couldn't come, after all, wouldn't go over too well. Besides, Ron would be valuable, and his help might make the difference between life and death. But still, it didn't make him feel any better about looking at Mrs Weasley and telling her there was no way they would back down and stay home, where she could make sure they were safe.

'Mum, I'm going, too. I can't exactly say anything, can I?' Bill sighed. Harry could tell he wasn't thrilled that the three of them were coming along, especially Ron, but he chose to ignore Bill for the moment.

'Now,' McGonagall said sternly, 'this is your Portkey.' Harry looked at the off-white, dusty, large Muggle clock in her hands. 'This will bring you to the Order's Romanian Headquarters, where Charlie Weasley will be. I trust that you can all Apparate?' Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded. Harry felt it best to not inform her that he'd only gotten his license earlier that morning, and Ron apparently felt the same, for he remained silent as well. McGonagall gave them all the once over. 'Right, well, once at Headquarters, you will make your way to the area in which we believe there is the Horcrux. If at any time, you are injured –' Mrs Weasley gasped 'or find that you need to escape, do not hesitate to leave. Do not try to be a hero – yes, I'm look at you, Potter – because it will only endanger everyone else involved. Charlie has lowered the barriers around the Headquarters for the time being, so you can Apparate back there if you have to. Understand?'

'Yes,' said Hermione. Ron and Harry nodded.

'We've also brought in a few Healers that are associated with the Order,' explained Mrs Weasley. 'They don't know all the details. They just know that if anyone is injured, they're supposed to assist that person in any way possible.' She looked at Ginny and smiled. 'Ginny and I will also be here, with first-aid kits and the like, to help.' She turned back to them and said, to Ron in particular, 'If I need to use my first-aid kit on any one of you,_ it'll be your last mission, whether you're of legal age or not_.Do you understand?'

'Give it a rest, Mum, we'll be fine,' said Ron.

'If they're hurt, Molly, they can Apparate back to the Headquarters, grab a Portkey, and they'll be back here before you know it, so you can treat them,' said Lupin. 'And threatening them doesn't help the situation, you know.'

Mrs Weasley opened her mouth to reply, but McGonagall cut in. 'Okay, is everybody ready?'

'Wait!' yelled Ginny. She rushed over to them and wrapped her arms tightly around Ron. 'You'd better be careful. And listen to Mum! If you get hurt, don't be a git. Get back here as soon as you can.' Ron, who seemed slightly taken aback by her hug, merely nodded and patted her on the back. She kissed him on the cheek before releasing him and grabbing Hermione. 'I know you're smart, so I don't think I need to tell you to be careful, but I'm going to say it anyway,' Ginny said.

'We'll be fine,' Hermione said reassuringly, returning the hug. 'Nothing will happen to us.'

Ginny nodded and moved onto Harry. She was hugging him so tightly that he thought for sure she'd crack a few ribs if she didn't let go soon. 'Just ...please don't die,' she whispered.

Harry laughed, trying to ignore the pang of guilt he felt. He hugged her back tightly, not caring if Ron was watching. 'I'll try not to. Thanks for the vote of confidence, though,' he said dryly.

Ginny pulled away and kissed him on the cheek. Her lips lingered longer on him than they had on her brother, and Harry wished he could give her a proper kiss before leaving. 'Make sure they stay safe,' she instructed Lupin, Tonks and Kingsley. They nodded and grinned at her. 'Bill, don't get too roughed up. We have a wedding to be at in a few days, and you're kind of scheduled to make an appearance,' she said, hugging her eldest brother.

'I need to say goodbye again!' Mrs Weasley announced when Ginny backed off. 'Oh, Ronnie, be careful. _Please_, be careful. Hermione, have your wand ready at all times, and no close calls like the Department of Mysteries! Harry, dear, if anything happens, you grab those two and you get back to Headquarters as fast as you can. Bill, I know that you know what you're doing, but I'll still worry until you get back safely.' She hugged and kissed them all before stepping back, wiping tears from her eyes. 'I wish I could go with you!'

Ron, who must've sensed that it was an inappropriate time to roll his eyes or say something smart, merely nodded and said, 'Don't sweat it, Mum. We'll be back before you know it.'

'I love you,' she breathed. 'All of you.'

'Love you, too,' they said together.

'Alright, now that we're through with the goodbyes,' McGonagall said, 'I take it you're all ready to go?'

There was a cheer of agreement from the trio. McGonagall smiled affectionately at them.

'We'll take good care of them, Molly,' Moody growled.

'And we'll try to make sure nobody needs that first-aid kit,' said Tonks.

'Give our love to Charlie,' said Mrs Weasley.

'On the count of three,' McGonagall said as Harry, Hermione, Ron, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley and Bill reached out to grab the clock. 'One ...two ...three.'

The ground disappeared as Harry felt a familiar pull from behind his navel. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were in another room, a larger, older-looking one.

'Hello,' said Charlie. 'It's about time you showed up.' Harry looked around the large room. He was almost positive that they were in an old castle of some sort. The ceilings were outrageously high and everything looked antique. Behind Charlie were about thirty witches and wizards, who stopped what they were doing the moment Charlie greeted those arriving via Portkey.

'Sorry we're late ...Mum wasn't exactly letting those three go without a fight,' explained Bill as he and Charlie greeted each other.

'I expected as much,' Charlie said as he said hello and hugged Tonks. 'Remus, hello ...Kingsley, good to see you again ...oh, Moody, you could at least pretend to be happy to see me,' he laughed as he shook hands with the three men. Moody grunted and Charlie looked at Ron. 'Little brother, when Mum told me you were coming, I didn't believe her.'

'What – you thought I would actually let you have all the fun without me?'

'No, I suppose you wouldn't,' Charlie smiled. 'Ah, Hermione, how've you been?'

Harry restrained himself from laughing as Ron frowned, seeing the silly smile that flashed across Hermione's face as Charlie hugged her. 'As good as I can be, living with these two,' Hermione joked. Ron and Harry rolled their eyes.

'Alright there, Harry?' asked Charlie, shaking his hand.

'Sure am,' said Harry. 'When're we going?'

'Slow down,' Charlie said, 'there's still a bit we have to do first, because we can send you out. Allow me to introduce my associates.'

As if on cue, a handful of the people behind Charlie rushed up to meet everyone.

Charlie pointed to a tall, attractive woman with long black hair, sharp blue eyes and a small, stubby nose. 'This is Anastasia Stinga.' The woman smiled and nodded curtly. 'That's Dimitri Pavel –' a short man with a balding head and long nose waved 'and over there is Ivan Meila –' a heavyset man grunted and wore an expression similar to Moody's. 'They'll bring you to the destination and show you possible escape routes.'

'We are going to a memorial graveyard zat was set up to 'onour those who were killed by You-Know-Who,' the woman named Anastasia said in a thick accent that sounded much like Fleur's, just with a deeper voice.

'It's hidden in a graveyard?' Hermione asked, careful not to let it slip that the 'it' they were looking for was actually a Horcrux. 'Will we have to d-dig up dead bodies?'

'Zere is a 'idden passageway underground, beneath ze graveyard,' said another woman. She had what appeared to be dark hair that looked purple under the dim lighting. 'We 'ave determined zat ze tunnel is leading to another place, and zat ze place is 'eavily protected with powerful magic.'

'That's where we're _really _going,' Charlie clarified. 'By the way, this is –'

'Cassibellaunus Predoviciu,' the seemingly purple-haired woman said, reaching out to shake Harry's hand. 'But you may call me Cassi.' Harry nodded and shook her hand. 'You, of course, are 'Arry Potter. I 'ave 'eard all about you.'

'Er – it's nice to meet you,' said Harry.

'Cassi's one of the top Aurors in Romania,' continued Charlie. 'She's going to be staying here while we go out. If any of you need to Apparate back here and need to get to Grimmauld Place for any reason, you find her and she'll have a Portkey ready for you.'

'Zat is a lovely colour you 'ave zere,' Cassi said to Tonks. 'Are you a Metamorphmagus?' Tonks nodded and her hair changed from bubblegum pink to sky blue. 'I am one, too.' Cassi demonstrated by changing her hair to a fiery orange, so she, Ron, Bill and Charlie matched.

'Wow, I don't think I know anyone else who's a Metamorphmagus. Were you –?'

'Ladies, ladies, we have a mission to get to,' reminded Lupin. 'You can chat later.'

'Right,' Charlie agreed. 'Let's get to work. We still have a few more things to straighten out before you can leave.' Harry watched as Cassi changed her hair back to dark purple. Tonks made her hair change to black, saying that it would be better to blend in with the dark when they were outside. 'Valerica Cuza is a Healer. Incase any of you get roughed up _really_ badly, and aren't able to take the Portkey back to your Headquarters, she'll help you out.'

……………………………………………………………

'I take it that these Portkeys are unauthorized?' asked Hermione, an hour later, as they were ready to depart. Ron rolled his eyes at the girl. After all the things he and Harry had put her through, she was still worried about breaking rules. Had he taught her nothing?

Charlie grinned. 'Well, unless _you'd _like to explain to the Ministry why we need them ...' Hermione smiled and shook her head. 'Alright. You'll take a Portkey to a safe house near the destination. From there, Anastasia, Dimitri and Ivan will lead you directly to the graveyard. If you sense danger, _get back here immediately_. Do you understand?'

'We understand,' said Hermione. Harry settled for a nod and Ron grunted.

'Okay. Be safe, little brother. Harry, Hermione, stay out of trouble. Mum'll kill me and Bill if anything happens to you lot.' Ron rolled his eyes. 'Have you got your wands?' asked Charlie. Everyone nodded and patted their pockets. 'Good.' They all reached out to touch a piece of the Portkey. Ron shut his eyes tightly. He didn't like keeping them open when they traveled this way ...it made him dizzy. 'On three ...one ...two ...three.'

When he felt his feet hit solid ground once more, Ron opened his eyes again; he was in the dark. 'Can we turn on a light or something?' he asked quietly.

'No,' came Anastasia's voice from somewhere to his left. 'If using light wasn't a danger, we would be doing zis in ze afternoon, when ze sun is shining.'

Suddenly, Ron was being pushed forward by someone. The moonlight cast a shadow on them, and he could now make out their faces.

'Let's go,' said Ivan. 'Follow closely – children be'ind us, adults be'ind them. Wands ready.'

Ron, Hermione and Harry walked stealthily behind Dimitri, Anastasia and Ivan, putting a bit of distance between them, but not enough that they'd lose sight of their leaders. Behind them were Tonks and Lupin, and then Kingsley, Moody and Bill bringing up the rear. They walked for several minutes up a very steep hill in complete silence before finally arriving at the top, which was home to a dark, creepy cemetery. It was a regular Muggle-looking cemetery, but it held mostly witches and wizards. They hopped a small fence and crept across the grass, stopping in front of a large tombstone.

Anastasia tapped the front of the stone with her wand and then walked around it, tapping random places as she went. She stepped back and waited. There was a low rumble and Hermione gasped as the ground underneath them began to shake. The stone rose up out of the ground fifteen feet, revealing a dark set of stairs that led into the ground.

'Zis is where we leave you,' Dimitri said. 'Once you are down zere, eet is questionable whether or not you can Apparate out. To be perfectly safe, you should try to get outside, to zis spot, before Apparating.'

'Thank you, said Lupin. 'We hope to be back at your Headquarters soon.'

'Good luck,' said Anastasia.

Bill smiled nervously at Ron. 'Ready?' Ron nodded.

'Wait!' Tonks hissed when Bill went to go down the steps. 'We don't know what'll happen yet ...you can't just walk in without checking things out first!' She conjured up a rock and tossed it down the steps, into the darkness. '_Lumos_.' They watched, by the light of her wand, as the stone bounced down the steps. When it hit the sixth, seventh and eighth steps, they fell away and disappeared as the stone continued bouncing to the bottom. 'Count the steps on your way down. When you get to the fifth one, you'll need to jump down to the ninth. Get a good, powerful jump. If you don't go far enough, you'll land on one of the bad steps and fall through ...and, well, who knows where you'll end up.'

Everyone nodded and muttered, _'Lumos.' _Tonks went down first, followed by Bill. Harry went in next, and Ron followed closely behind. Ron felt slightly apprehensive for a moment before gritting his teeth, balling his fists, and jumping. He landed – rather ungracefully – on the ninth stair. Thankfully, the stairs were very narrow, and it hadn't proved as difficult or dangerous as he'd imagined it to be. He turned to watch the next person jump. He could see the nervous look on Hermione's face. She was firmly planted on the fifth stair, staring at the ninth as if there were a million steps between, instead of just three small ones.

'Just jump, Hermione,' encouraged Ron. She looked up at him with frightened eyes. 'I'll catch you, I promise.'

She nodded, shut her eyes, crouched and leapt forward. She narrowly avoided bumping her foot on the eighth stair and falling backwards. Ron's arms instantly sprung forward and grabbed her, pulling her close to him.

'Thanks,' she whispered. He nodded and let her go, watching as Lupin, Kingsley and (Ron found this sight extremely amusing) Moody hopped down to safety. They walked a bit further, Bill leading the way, all on guard with their wands ready. They followed Bill down a long, dark corridor. In a place like this, it was hard for Ron to forget that he was underground. He thanked Merlin that the tunnel was most likely held up by magic, or else it would've come crashing down on top of them already. There was a dirt path underfoot; the walls were dirt and he expected that the ceiling was, too. It was rather cold; they all preformed Heating Charms on each other before going any further. A putrid smell filled Ron's nostrils and he tried not to think about what could've caused it. Could there be dead bodies around there somewhere ...the bodies of those who'd tried and failed in their own personal attempts to retrieve the Horcrux? He no longer felt it important to waste his time worrying about the spiders that were more than likely all around them. He kept his eyes peeled for any approaching signs of danger, but even with seven wands lighting their way, they were only able to see a few feet in front of their faces.

'Stop,' Harry commanded after several minutes of walking. Everyone immediately stopped dead in their tracks and looked at him. Ron knew that Harry's wand had been deposited back into his pocket, for he could see a faint glowing light coming from the inside of Harry's robes. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply, heavily, as if every ounce of him was concentrating on something they couldn't see or even really understand. Nobody spoke as they watched him. Harry raised his arms and pressed his hands firmly against the wall of the tunnel, feeling blindly for something that didn't appear to be there. Hermione threw a concerned look at Ron, but he shook his head and stared, confidently, at Harry. Harry knew what he was doing ...at least, Ron hoped that he did. 'It's here.'

'What's here?' Lupin asked quietly. 'What is it, Harry?'

'Everything ...' said Harry. 'Nobody move. Don't go any further ...too dangerous. Give me a minute ...I need to figure out how to ...'

He outlined an invisible path along the wall. Ron brought his wand closer to Harry, allowing him the ability to see what he was doing, but Harry's eyes remained shut. A flicker of orange light passed from Harry's open palms into the wall, where it was absorbed. Suddenly, four thin, long planks appeared in front of them, which stretched across as far as Ron could see – which wasn't very far. It was then that he realized there hadn't been any ground in front of Bill, and had Harry not stopped them from walking, they all would've plummeted into the big pool of water which was a few steps ahead of them and about three feet down.

Harry's eyes flew open and he turned to Ron, a mixture of shock and excitement on his face. 'What ...what happened? How did you know ...?' asked Ron.

'I – I'm not sure,' said Harry. 'I just _knew_.'

'We can all marvel at Potter's unknown abilities later,' Moody barked. 'Right now, we need to keep moving. Four of us will go first, and the next three will follow behind. Who wants –?'

'No,' said Harry. 'There's a reason there's four boards to get across on. Four people, at the most, can be on the other side of these planks at a time.'

'Are you sure, Harry?' questioned Tonks.

'Positive. Something similar to this happened when I went with Professor Dumbledore. If Hermione, Ron and I were still underage, we could all get across without setting anything off, because underage wizards didn't matter to Voldemort when he set the spell, but ...'

'Who goes with you, then?' Kingsley asked Harry. 'You decide.'

'Ron and Hermione are coming with me,' he said instantly. Ron and Hermione grinned. 'It doesn't matter who the fourth person is ...whoever wants to come.'

'I'll go,' volunteered Bill. 'But if only four people can cross the planks ...well, what would happen if the other three swam across, in the water underneath them?'

Ron didn't miss the look on Harry's face, nor his shudder. 'Trust me – when dealing with Voldemort, the _last _thing you want to do is voluntarily get in the water,' advised Harry. Seeing everyone's confused looks, he muttered, 'Inferi.'

Ron inhaled sharply, and was suddenly very nervous about crossing the thin planks. What if he fell in?

'Oh,' said Bill. He looked about as uneasy as Ron felt. 'Okay, you heard him, everyone. Under _no _circumstances are we to go near water.'

'If you can't avoid it,' added Harry, 'heat and light will work to get rid of them.' He pulled his wand out of his pocket, the light still coming off of it, and said, 'Wands ready? C'mon.'

'We'll be waiting right here,' Lupin said.

This time it was Hermione nudging Ron along as they approaching the planks. Stepping onto them, Ron was pleased to find that they were wider than they appeared, and accommodated his large feet rather well. He walked for what felt like an eternity before the board came to an end and was replaced with solid ground again. He turned back and could no longer see Tonks, Lupin or Moody, though it was mostly due to the thick darkness, and not any great amount of distance that was between them.

They walked onward, every now and then stopping so Harry could feel the wall or take a look around.

'What do we do now?' Bill asked Harry. 'You've done this before ...anything we should know about?'

'Like what?' asked Harry.

'Well, is there anything we can do to help us know where the Horcrux is? A simple spell, maybe?' suggested Bill.

'You honestly think that You-Know-Who would go through all this trouble, only to let a "_simple spell_" be the ticket to getting his Horcrux?' asked Ron.

Bill scowled and narrowed his eyes at Ron. 'Look, little brother, I've got more experience than you do when it comes to stuff like this. Perhaps you should shut up and let Harry answer my question.'

Ron rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He was on his first Order mission, and he wasn't about to let his brother ruin it for him.

Nothing could ruin this moment.

'So ...is there anything?' Bill asked again.

'Not exactly ...but using the Summoning Charm helped a bit last time,' answered Harry. 'Everybody be careful, though, because once I Summon the Horcrux, any hexes that are guarding it will spring into effect.' They all nodded and gripped their wands tighter. 'Okay, ready? _Accio Horcrux!_'

Almost right away, Ron heard someone call 'Watch out!' and turned just in time to see something fly toward them and make contact with the person to his left. He heard a gasp of pain and almost passed out from the dread that suddenly hit him – along with a wave of nausea – when they hit the floor.

Okay, _one _thing could ruin this moment.

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**...So who was it? You'll have to wait to find out! Haha, I'm so evil!**

**Review!**


	11. Back at Headquarters

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Eleven: Back at Headquarters  
**……………………………………………………………

'HERMIONE!' screamed Ron. He dropped to his knees beside her, his eyes wide. 'Are you alright? Can you hear me?'

Hermione blinked and tried to sit up. She felt a sharp, piercing pain course through her body and settled back against the dirty ground. What had hit her? It looked like one of those ninja star things she had seen in Muggle movies. Or perhaps it had been an automatic Severing Charm of some sort. Whatever it had been, it had been sharp and as it had passed her, it had slashed across her shoulder. 'I – yes, I'm fine,' she whispered.

'You can – _oh_,' Ron gasped and cursed.

'What is it?' asked Harry, who appeared at her side. Bill was behind him.

'She's bleeding ...' Ron said with a shaky voice. 'She's bleeding a lot.'

'Oh, shit,' said Bill. 'Look at all that blood.' Hermione scowled at their filthy mouths, but decided it wasn't the best of times to lecture them.

There was blood. Her shoulder was hurting, yes, but was it really bleeding?

'What are you talking about?' Hermione asked worriedly. 'Don't just stand there! Help me up.'

Harry bent down to get a better look at her. He and Ron carefully picked her up, trying not to hurt her. She cried out in pain as she gently moved her left shoulder. Using her other arm, she brought her wand up to her injured shoulder and gasped. Her robes were already starting to soak with blood. The ground was completely red where she had landed.

'Get back to Headquarters,' ordered Harry. He sounded nervous.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. 'I told you that I'm fine,' she insisted stubbornly. 'I don't need to go to Headquarters.'

'I didn't ask your opinion,' Harry said, sounding bolder, though he still looked worried.

'I'm not –'

'Hermione ...' Bill said.

'No! I know what I'm feeling better than you do, and I'm not hurt at all,' she protested. 'It looks far worse that it really is.' Although that wasn't true – it was extremely painful. In fact, the only thing that exceeded the hurt she felt right now was at the Department of Mysteries, when she nearly died at the hands of Dolohov. And that was only the aftereffects, because she lost consciousness immediately after the spell was preformed. Regardless, she wasn't about to pack it in and accept defeat just yet. They were on a mission, and a little injury wasn't going to jeopardize that.

'Hermione,' said Ron, a concerned look on his face. He took her right hand in his and stared into her eyes, pleading with her to go back. 'It's fine that you don't think your injury is all that serious. Nobody will think badly of you because you got hurt. Just go back to Headquarters and get treated – for me. Please?'

She sighed and looked at her feet, wincing when her shoulder gave another painful throb. 'Okay.'

'Thank you,' he said. 'I'll walk you back across the planks.'

Hermione would've protested, saying she was perfectly capable of doing it herself, but the look in his eyes told her not to argue. She merely nodded and smiled at Bill and Harry before turning around and walking in the opposite direction.

'I'll send someone back with Ron, in my place,' she promised.

'Are you sure you're alright?' asked Ron as she winced yet again.

'Yes,' she lied. In truth, she was getting an almost unbearable jolt of pain through her neck, shoulder and arm every time she moved. When they finally came to the small wooden planks that led the way across the dangerous water, Hermione took a shaky breath and walked across much slower than she'd done before. She ignored the pain in her body and focused on not falling. Ron was on her right, on another plank, concentrating as hard as she was.

'Ron? Hermione? What happened?' questioned Tonks.

'Hermione's hurt. Something flew out at us and cut her shoulder,' explained Ron. 'Someone needs to walk outside with her, so she can Apparate back to Headquarters.'

'I'll go,' Tonks volunteered. She cast another look at Hermione. 'Remus, will you help me?' Lupin nodded.

'Thanks. And someone can come back over with me, as the fourth person,' Ron continued.

'I will,' said Moody.

'Okay. Come on,' Ron said. They went in one direction, and Hermione, Tonks and Lupin went in the other. 'She'll say she's fine, but she's bleeding rather badly, so don't listen to her!' he yelled.

Hermione laughed softly and kept walking. 'He's taking this too seriously,' she said. 'I'm really not in that much p-pain.' She tried to sound strong, but her voice betrayed her, coming out quiet and weary. She winced when her shoulder brushed uncomfortably against the jumper underneath her robes.

She was beginning to feel dizzy, and she was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. How much blood had she lost?

'Ron's right, you're bleeding a lot. The entire left side of your robes is covered,' Lupin noted, examining her shoulder.

'Oh,' Tonks gasped. 'Hermione, are you okay? That looks terribly painful.'

'Wh-what? No, I'm fine. N-never better.'

Why was this tunnel so long? Had they done this much walking when they first went through it?

'Come on, we're almost there,' said Lupin. His voice sounded soothing and it reminded Hermione of her father. She missed her father ... and her mother, too. She instantly regretted not telling them about the missions, because they were bound to find out now, and she'd be in quite a bit of trouble when they did. Her right side slumped against Lupin and she blinked several times, mentally urging herself forward.

At last, they arrived at the stairs.

'Remus ... no way out ...' Hermione heard Tonks say. '... Opening must've closed ... trapped.'

'Forget ... hope we're close enough to the outside ... safe to Apparate,' Lupin said. They sounded far away to Hermione. Were they talking about her? She was having trouble focusing on their conversation. '... In no condition ... stairs ... fall through ...'

'Hermione? Hermione?' Hermione opened her eyes (when had she shut them?) to see Tonks staring at her. '... Need to focus ... can't get outside ... Apparate here.'

Right, Apparate. She'd Apparate to Headquarters and everything would be okay. If only she could focus, like Tonks had said to do. She knew she wasn't going to be able to do it without Splinching herself unless she focused.

'... Alright to do that?' asked Lupin. '... Side-Along, if you're not –'

'No,' said Hermione, though her voice sounded faint and strange to her own ears. 'I can d-do it ... I can f-focus.' She cleared her throat, and her eyes fell shut. She took a deep breath and tried her best to picture the room at the Romanian Headquarters. When she opened her eyes, she winced and tried to adjust to the lights in the castle. Where was Charlie? '... Charlie,' she groaned.

Hermione saw bright red hair rushing over to her. 'Bloody hell ... covered in blood ... what happened ...?'

'Portkey ... I need to get to Headquarters ...'

'Hold on ... Cassi ... Portkey ... _now _...'

A woman, who Hermione assumed was Cassi, appeared from around the corner holding something in her hands. Everything was going fuzzy. Someone grabbed her right hand and placed it on a hard, cold object.

'... Count of three ... one ... two ... three.'

She was vaguely away of a strange feeling in her stomach, and the disappearance of any solid ground underneath her feet.

She heard a loud shriek and struggled to open one of her eyes. She saw more red hair. 'Hermione? ... Charlie, what's happened ...?' It was Mrs Weasley, with McGonagall behind her. Hermione shut her eyes again and tasted copper in her mouth. Her throat felt thick when she swallowed.

'... Don't know, Mum ... the Healer ...'

'... Of course ... Ginny, get someone ...'

'... Bleeding ... looks bad ...'

Hermione groaned and felt a protective arm go around her waist. Her head lolled to the side as she fell back into somebody. She forced her eyes open and saw a tall, red-haired man holding onto her, looking concerned. She smiled dreamily at him.

'Ron ...' she whispered before passing out.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny was a wreck.

It was getting close to two hours now that they'd been gone. What if something happened?

She wished her mother had let her go with them. She could only _imagine _what they had encountered. What if Voldemort had figured out what they were doing, and showed up with his Death Eaters? Harry, Ron and Hermione were no match for them, even with Tonks, Lupin, Kingsley and Moody. They'd had too many close calls already ... what if this one was it? What if they didn't come back?

She was lying on one of the couches in Grimmauld Place, waiting for everyone to get back safely, when she heard her mother scream. Her heart stopped as she sat up and ran to the kitchen. She was already shaking – she knew it was bad. Was it Harry? Ron? What had those two idiots done now?

'Hermione?'

_Hermione_? Oh Merlin, what was wrong with Hermione? Please let her be okay.

'Look at her! Oh, no! Charlie, what's happened to her? Is she alright?' Mrs Weasley questioned.

Ginny finally made it to the kitchen just in time to see Hermione's eyes close. She was swaying dangerously on her feet. Charlie was behind her, looking oddly pale, shaking his head. McGonagall looked utterly shocked, and with a shaky hand, she covered her mouth and gasped, examining the left side of Hermione's robes. 'I – I don't know, Mum,' said Charlie. 'She needs to see the Healer _now_.'

'Oh, yes, of course,' agreed Mrs Weasley. She spun around and came face to face with Ginny. 'Ginny, get someone to help Hermione. And hurry!' Ginny nodded and ran upstairs, where the two Healers were talking, waiting for someone to be brought in for them to treat.

'She's bleeding a lot, Mum. It looks bad. I don't know what could've happened ...' she heard Charlie say.

'Audrey!' called Ginny as she flew up the stairs, almost tripping over her feet. 'Earl!' She found them in the first room to her left, looking eager but concerned. 'Someone get to the kitchen now!'

The two Healers nodded and ran out of the room with Ginny hot on their heels. 'What is it?' Audrey asked as they entered the kitchen. Ginny gasped and stopped dead in her tracks. Hermione was passed out, in Charlie's arms, looking dangerously pale.

'She's bleeding ... we don't know what happened,' said Charlie hurriedly.

'Bring her into the living room and set her down. We'll help her,' said Earl.

'Yes, yes, hurry,' sobbed Mrs Weasley. '_Please_.' Ginny took one look at her mother, who was crying and shaking, and knew it was bad – no, it was worse than bad.

Charlie picked her up, careful not to move her left side (Ginny was rather sure this was where her injury was), and carried her to the living room. He set her down on the floor and backed away as Audrey knelt beside her and made a quick, slicing motion with her wand. The sound of fabric ripping covered the heavy silence in the room as Hermione's blood-soaked robes tore at the shoulder, allowing Audrey to pull them off and revealing Hermione's torn jumper. Ginny gasped at the large, deep cut on her shoulder. Her bone would've been visible, Ginny was sure, if it wasn't for all the blood gushing out of the wound. Her sleeve was completely coloured with blood, and a tiny pool of the red liquid was forming underneath her, on the floor.

Audrey waved her wand again and the jumper ripped. Carefully, Audrey peeled it off the wound, biting her lip in concentration. Waving her wand one final time and muttering something under her breath, the cut disappeared. Fresh skin healed over the area.

Earl came back into the room – Ginny hadn't even realized that he had left – with a red potion. He handed it to Audrey, who tilted Hermione's head back, opened her mouth, and poured the potion in. The colour almost instantly returned to her face and she coughed, but didn't regain consciousness.

'She lost a lot of blood,' Earl explained. 'That was a Blood-Replenishing Potion that we gave her.'

'Will she b-be okay?' asked Mrs Weasley.

'Oh, yes,' said Audrey after a long moment. She got to her feet and smiled. 'I expect that she'll be right as rain in an hour or two. There are no infections, at least none that I can see. She should rest for a bit, though. Can you get her to the couch?'

'Sure,' said Charlie. He and Earl lifted Hermione up off the ground and put her on the couch, where she groaned and rolled onto her right side, but still didn't wake.

'What could've done that to her? Merlin, what're they dealing with on these missions?' cried Mrs Weasley. Her weeping had ceased, only to be replaced by anger and worry. 'I can't believe my Ronnie is still out there ... Bill and Harry, too. Oh, no ...'

Ginny's heart clenched; she'd completely forgotten about Harry and her brothers. She felt a new sense of panic was over her as she looked at the pool of blood on the floor ... Hermione's blood. She was lucky; she made it back to Headquarters, and she was helped by a Healer. What about Ron? Would he make it back if he was hurt? Harry would probably try to go on, ignoring the fact that he was injured. Bill was tough, but Voldemort was a lot more powerful. Could they hold up against the spells Voldemort put in place to protect the Horcrux? What if they didn't make it back?

What if they were all dead? What if Hermione was the only one who got away? Could it be that she was in the _best_ shape out of them all?

'Ginny, dear, go back home and get some other clothes for Hermione. The ones she's wearing are all bloody and torn,' said Mrs Weasley.

Ginny shook her head. 'No, I'm not leaving, Mum. What if something h-happens while I'm gone? I c-can't ... I d-don't –'

'Okay,' said Mrs Weasley. 'I'll go. If _anything _happens while I'm gone, someone had better come and let me know.' Charlie nodded and Ginny collapsed onto the other couch, trying to slow her racing heart. She watched as her mother went to the fireplace, threw in some powder, stepped into the flames and yelled, 'The Burrow!'

She returned ten minutes later, but it was almost another half hour before Hermione woke up.

Ginny heard a groan and jumped to her feet as Hermione rolled over and opened her eyes.

'Hermione?'

Hermione sat up quickly, looking around. 'Ginny? Is Ron okay? What about Harry?'

Ginny shook her head. 'I – we don't know yet. They still aren't back.' Hermione yawned and touched her bare shoulder. It was fully healed; the only sign that she'd been injured was that the skin was slightly redder on the spot that had been cut open. Her jumper hung limply on her left side, revealing the top of her bra. 'Mum brought some clothes from The Burrow for you,' said Ginny.

Hermione shook her head and stood up. 'No, there's no time ... I've got to get back.'

'Excuse me?' asked Ginny. She stared incredulously at Hermione as she got up and rushed into the living room. 'You aren't going _anywhere_.'

'Yes, I am,' argued Hermione. Ginny followed her into the kitchen, where Mrs Weasley and McGonagall were talking quietly. 'I need to know what's going on. I can't be expected to just sit here and wait.'

'Miss Granger, I am extremely relieved to see you up and about,' McGonagall said wearily, 'but make no mistake; if I need to, I will put you in a full Body-Bind to keep you out of danger. And I have sent an owl to your parents, informing them of your condition.'

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by Mrs Weasley jumping up from her chair and hugging her tightly. 'You gave us such a scare,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Please stay here with us. Your parents wouldn't want you to go out again, either.'

Hermione nodded and half-heartedly walked back to the living room. She sat down on the couch and sighed angrily. 'I should be out there,' she said.

'Hermione, I know you want to go help, but I'm glad you're not,' said Ginny. 'You didn't see yourself ... you were so pale, and you lost so much blood ...'

'I was fine,' she insisted.

'Actually – Hermione, is it? – you were not fine,' said Audrey, coming down the stairs. 'In fact, if you hadn't made it back here when you did, you mostly likely wouldn't be alive right now.'

'I – what?'

'That's right,' said Audrey. She walked over to the couch and extended her hand. 'Audrey Fiske. I'm a Healer.'

'Hermione Granger,' Hermione said quietly.

'Pleasure.' She shook her hand and smiled sweetly. 'As I was saying, you lost quite a bit of blood. We gave you some Blood-Replenishing Potions and healed your wound. It was rather nasty. May I ask how you attained it?' She rubbed a dark pink, watery substance onto Hermione's formerly-injured shoulder.

Ginny froze. Audrey may be with the Order, but she wasn't allowed to know about Horcruxes. How could Hermione talk her way out of this one?

'Oh, you know ... someone conjured a Severing Charm ... let's just say they need to work on their aim a little,' laughed Hermione. Audrey nodded, but didn't look the least bit convinced. It was a blatant lie, no question about it, but Audrey was trained to know better than to press Hermione on the matter.

'Right,' said Audrey. 'Well, I just came down to apply this and to see how you're doing. If you're feeling any pain or discomfort, come get either Earl or myself. We'll be upstairs.'

'Thank you,' said Hermione as Audrey went up the stairs.

'Do you mind telling me what _really _happened?' asked Ginny. Had Hermione been telling a total lie, or had a Severing Charm really been used on her, and just not in the context Hermione had implied? If it was true, that would mean that someone had to conjure it. And nobody on their side would do that ...

'Okay,' said Hermione. She still looked pale, possibly due to loss of blood, but more likely because everyone was still out there. She folded her legs underneath her body and leaned forward, like she was gossiping, instead of explaining how she almost died. 'We took a Portkey to this ... place, and then walked for a really long time, to the cemetery. When we finally got there, one of the graves rose out of the ground and turned into stairs. There were some trick steps so you had to jump over them, and then we wound up in this really dark, cold tunnel.'

'It sounds creepy,' said Ginny.

'It was, I suppose,' Hermione shrugged. 'Anyway, we walked for a long time and then –'

'RON!'

Hermione stopped and she and Ginny leapt up from the couch. Neither girl moved, waiting for everyone to traipse into the living room and announce that they were all safe. They had been gone a long time, but had it been long enough for them to have been successful, or was Ron simply injured, like Hermione, and had to come back?

Ron stumbled into the living room (he was limping) with strange look on his face. Ginny's heart sunk; she was almost positive it had something to do with Harry. She held her breath. Harry was dead, wasn't he? How had it happened? _Why wasn't Ron saying anything_? Ginny deserved to know how he died!

'Hermione!'

A big, stupid grin stretched across his face as he quickly hobbled over to them and hugged Hermione. She started to cry and Ron quickly pulled away.

'Shite, I hurt you, didn't I?'

'No,' Hermione said, sobbing. She shook her head and hugged him again. 'I'm so glad you're okay.'

Ginny ignored them and turned back to the spot where her mother was. Lupin walked in from the kitchen, followed by a black-haired Tonks. Moody trotted in after them, and Kingsley entered the living room next. Bill came in, wincing as he moved, chatting with McGonagall. Mrs Weasley was next, with tears in her eyes and a worried expression on her face.

And then, finally, Harry appeared.

His hair was messier than usual and his glasses were hanging off his face. He looked exhausted and sweaty and had a big cut on his forehead. Dried blood was caked on his face, starting at the spot over his right eye and going down to his jaw. He looked slightly dizzy.

But he was still Harry, and he was still alive.

He didn't get a chance to go deeper into the room because Ginny was already running toward him at full speed. When she reached him, she threw her arms around him tightly and nearly knocked him over from the impact. Before she realized what she was doing, she was crying and calling him a git. Harry put one hand behind her head and pulled her face to his, kissing her softly and then pulling back to look at her, a smile playing across his exhausted face. He wiped away her tears with his thumb and kissed her again.

After they separated (Ginny was relieved to see that nobody had paid any attention to them), she went down the line and embraced everyone else. Finally, Hermione asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

'Did you get a Horcrux?'

Mrs Weasley smiled. 'That can wait until later, dear. If anybody needs to see a Healer, there are two upstairs.' When nobody moved, she folded her arms and said, 'Bill Weasley, don't think I didn't notice how stiffly you were moving! And Harry, you get upstairs and clean yourself up this instant.' Harry sighed and grudgingly followed Bill up the stairs to the Healers. 'Ron, are you alright? Come here; let me get a good look at you.'

'Mum, I'm fine. It was bloody amazing,' said Ron. 'Well, at least at first.' He cast a worried look at Hermione. 'You're sure you're okay?' he asked. Hermione nodded.

After more pestering, Ron obliged and humoured Mrs Weasley, turned around and letting her examine him from all angles. He managed to stand steadily on his bad foot and avoided being sent to the Healer. Ginny knew this was the smartest thing for him to do, since their mum would never allow him to go on another mission if he came back with even a scratch on him. Once he passed the inspection, Ginny couldn't contain herself, and wound up giving him another bone-crushing hug.

'I love you,' whispered Ginny, 'even though you're rather daft at times.'

'Thanks, I think ...' laughed Ron. 'And I love you, too – even though you act like a brat most of the time.'

Harry emerged from upstairs looking good as new, followed shortly thereafter by Bill, who had been treated for a few bruised and cracked ribs. Audrey and Earl came down next, said a quick goodbye, and then left.

'Okay,' Ginny said eagerly. 'Did you get the Horcrux or what?'

Harry shrugged and pulled a large, green gem from his robes. 'This is all we found,' he said quietly.

Ron frowned. 'It doesn't seem very important, though.'

'When it comes to Lord Voldemort, anything can be important,' said McGonagall. She pulled out her wand and ushered everyone back into the kitchen. Harry sat the gem on the table and everyone crowded around and watched as McGonagall muttered an incantation and pointed her wand at the stone.

Ginny held her breath. She tried to remember what happened last time McGonagall preformed the spell. It had taken a moment before the Horcrux had had a reaction, she recalled. She told herself not to panic if nothing happened right away.

'That bloody thing had better start glowing,' said Ron, 'because I sure as hell didn't stick my neck out for a bloody useless rock.'

'_Ron_,' scolded Hermione. 'Watch your language.'

'No. You got hurt. It better not have been for nothing,' he argued.

Ginny was so caught up in the amusement that was Ron and Hermione that she almost missed the bright glow coming from the stone. The purple glow was stifled by the emerald colour of the jewel, but the point got across all the same: it was a Horcrux.

Ginny squealed and couldn't contain her grin as McGonagall repeated the same spell that she'd used on the locket to destroy the gem. When she finished, an odd, muffled cry rang out before the Horcrux disintegrated and disappeared.

'Good work,' McGonagall said.

'Four down, two to go,' said Moody.

'Right, you lot –' Mrs Weasley pointed at Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron 'back home. It's been a hectic day, and you all need your rest.'

……………………………………………………………


	12. Apparating

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**This chapter was written _before _I realized that you probably can't Apparate into a house for security reasons. However, in OotP, Fred and George Apparated from their bedroom at Grimmauld place into Harry and Ron's, so I figured there were some circumstances in which it was possible. I took it to mean that if you live at/are in a specific place, you can Apparate throughout it. Therefore, (for the purpose of this story) Hermione, Harry and Ron can Apparate throughout The Burrow.**

**Chapter Twelve: Apparating  
**……………………………………………………………

Ron's mind was racing.

How could his mum honestly think he'd be able to go to bed after the adventure he'd just been on? He'd gone on an Order mission – with Aurors and everything! He had trekked through a dark, dangerous (not to mention spider-infested) cave and stolen a seventh of You-Know-Who's soul! And after doing all that ... he was expected to _sleep_?

Really?

_Crack._

'Ron?'

'Harry?' Ron sat up and squinted in the dark, trying to figure out where Harry's voice had come from. He reached for his wand, but Harry had already whispered _'Lumos'_ and illuminated the room. 'What're you doing here?'

Being that it was back to being only the four children and Mr and Mrs Weasley in the house, they were all given their own rooms. Harry was currently staying in Fred and George's old room, while Hermione was put up in Percy's.

'I couldn't sleep, and I had a feeling you couldn't, either,' said Harry. 'Come on, get out of bed. We're going to Hermione's room.'

'Why?' asked Ron.

'I think we know Hermione rather well by now, and I'd be willing to bet my Firebolt that she's awake, too,' said Harry. 'Only she'd never directly break the rules and get out of bed on her own, so we'll need to coerce her into it. Does that sound about right?'

'I suppose.'

'So, let's go.' Ron didn't move. 'Fine, stay here if you'd like. I'm Apparating to Hermione's room whether you're coming along or not,' stated Harry.

Ron didn't like the idea of Harry and Hermione alone in her bedroom in the middle of the night. 'We're just going to pop in, without any warning? She won't like that. Maybe we shouldn't ...' said Ron, though he lacked conviction.

'The worst case scenario, she's asleep. In which case, we'll just Disapparate out and she'll be none the wiser.'

Ron nodded and grabbed his wand – just incase – before he and Harry Apparated to Hermione's bedroom. Apparently, neither boy had gotten the hang of things, because they both landed on the floor with a _thud_.

'It's about time you two showed up,' said Hermione in a business-like tone. By the light of Harry's wand, Ron could see that she had been sitting up and waiting for them. 'I was beginning to think you were actually sleeping.' Crookshanks meowed and leapt off the bed to brush against Ron's leg.

'_Lumos,'_ muttered Ron and Hermione at the same time. He suddenly wished he'd had the sense to change his clothes before suddenly appearing in Hermione's room. He normally wore his pajamas, the ones he'd long since outgrown, but tonight proved too warm and he'd finally just stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt before settling into bed. And there he stood, in front of Hermione, in his shirt and boxers – his _Chudley Cannon_ boxers.

'Sleeping – us? Come off it,' said Harry, who, by Ron's inspection, was wearing the exact same thing as he was. His boxers were blue, and not Chudley Cannon, though. 'Shall we go get Ginny?'

'Oh, I think we'd better. She might kill us if she found out we didn't include her in this,' said Hermione, getting out of bed. Noticing that her sleepwear was just as scant as his and Harry's, Ron forced himself to look away.

Moments later, he was standing in Ginny's room, Hermione and Harry on either side of him. The landing was slightly better than it had been previously; instead of falling, he merely stumbled a little.

'Gin? Are you awake?' whispered Harry.

'Harry?' Ginny sat up quickly. 'Do you – oh, hey everyone.'

'Were you sleeping?' asked Hermione, a small smile on her face. 'We can leave if you were.'

'No,' she said quickly, 'I wasn't. I'm dying to hear about the mission.' Ginny flung herself off her bed and sat on the floor. 'Somebody start talking.'

Ron laughed appreciatively and sat down. Harry and Hermione followed suit. 'We'll get to that later. First, I want to hear what happened with Hermione.'

'I – um –'

'She can't answer that,' Ginny interjected. 'She hasn't got a clue what happened. She passed out right after she got back to Headquarters.'

'What?' hissed Ron.

Harry gave Hermione a concerned look before casting a Silencing Charm on the room. 'You passed out?' he asked. 'Merlin, I didn't realize you were hurt _that_ badly.'

'I was fine,' Hermione maintained.

'Whatever you say,' said Ginny. 'Hey, I would've traded places with her in a second. She was on the couch enjoying a nice nap while I was pacing the room, all but pulling my hair out over you two idiots,' she said, looking from Harry to Ron and back.

'You didn't need to worry about us,' Harry said quietly.

'Of course I did!' insisted Ginny. 'She's the careful one of you lot. When she turned up like that –'

'_I was fine!'_

'– I could only imagine the state you two would be in when you got back ... if you even got back at all!'

'We were in good hands,' argued Ron. 'Harry's a brilliant leader.'

Ginny shook her head. 'It's not that I don't trust Harry's abilities –'

'Good,' said Ron, 'because he's got some _wicked _abilities. You should've seen it. He did this thing with his hands ... it was wandless magic!'

'He did?' asked Ginny.

'I did?' asked Harry.

'You did,' Hermione confirmed. 'It was rather interesting, actually.' She turned to Ginny. 'We were walking – in pitch darkness, mind you – and all of a sudden Harry stopped and started feeling the wall.'

Ginny laughed. 'That sounds a bit nutty to me.'

'Yeah, I thought he was mad at first,' agreed Ron. 'But then he started tracing this pattern on the wall – _with his eyes closed _– and this beam of light shot out of his hand!'

'It did?' asked Ginny.

'It did?' Harry asked incredulously.

'You didn't know?' questioned Hermione.

'No. I felt something but I thought maybe I just imagined it. My eyes were closed, remember? I figured my hand just brushed against something and it made me feel that way.'

'Well, you did some sort of wandless magic,' said Hermione. 'That's probably how the planks appeared, in the first place. But how did you know when to stop? I could barely see an inch in front of my face, and you managed to keep us from falling into that water.'

'I guess I have better eyesight then you do,' replied Harry.

Ron rolled his eyes. 'You have better eyesight? You wear glasses! And your eyes were shut, anyway.'

'How did you do it?' asked Ginny.

'I don't know ... after we got past the stairs and started walking, I shut my eyes,' said Harry. 'It was easier, in a way, almost like I knew where I was going and where everything was even though I couldn't really see it. When we came up to the water, I ... _knew_, but I didn't know how I knew. It was almost like someone was telling me what to do.'

'Voldemort?' asked Ginny, her voice barely above a whisper.

'No,' Harry said firmly. 'It's different when he's in my head ... I don't know what it was, really.'

'What is ... like another sense?' Hermione asked.

'Not really,' Harry said. 'It's ... it's complicated. I can't explain it. But whatever it was, it was definitely a good thing.'

'Is that how you knew what to do on the wall? It looked like you were writing some kind of code, or something, in order for those planks to appear.'

'I guess. My eyes were shut, but I could see the pattern in my head. I tried to trace it out on the wall.'

'That sounds really weird,' said Ginny. 'Well, not _weird_, but ... certainly not normal!'

Harry grinned and shrugged. 'Dumbledore said that magic always leaves traces. I guess I know Voldemort well enough to identify his, and I know what to do to counter it.'

'I suppose that's possible,' Hermione said thoughtfully.

'He's tried to kill you more times than I can count ... if you don't know him well by now, I'd think there was something seriously wrong with you,' laughed Ron.

'So ... what happened after I left you?' asked Hermione. 'After you crossed the planks, what did you do?'

'Well, we walked for a bit more, and then Harry told us to stop again,' Ron recalled. 'All of these weird, sharp-looking things, like the one that cut Hermione, shot out at us. We had to stay really low to the ground, or else we would set off this sort of alarm and more would've flown out at us. So we started crawling on the ground, inching our way further, when we came to more water. Harry did that weird thing with his hands again and more planks appeared – but there was only two that time.'

Harry now looked as confused and intrigued as Hermione and Ginny did. 'I did more wandless magic?'

'You don't realize when you're doing it?' Hermione asked, sounding flabbergasted.

'His eyes were shut again,' explained Ron. 'But anyway, we were lying there on the ground, and we knew we had to cross the planks, but there was no way that we'd be able to do it without standing. Unless we wanted to wind up in the water ...' he shuddered.

'What did you do?' Ginny asked.

Ron grinned. 'I was sure we were either going to rot there forever or get hit with one of those flying things and die. But out of nowhere, Harry stood up.'

'He did _what_?'

'I did _what_?'

'Harry stood up,' said Ron. He turned to Harry. 'You – you don't remember?'

'No, I don't remember ... that ...' he muttered.

'It was bloody amazing,' exclaimed Ron. 'He stood up, but nothing shot out at him! It was like he figured out how to move without being detected. And then he turned to Moody, Bill and me – we were all still on the ground, scared out of our minds – and he said, "Who's going to come across with me?" Then he stared at us like we were just on the ground to take a bloody nap or something!'

Ginny laughed and Harry gaped at Ron in disbelief.

'Who went?' asked Hermione, though she sounded like she already knew the answer.

'I did, of course,' Ron said proudly. 'But it was a lot harder than it seemed ... none of us wanted to get up, incase we triggered those things again. But Harry was looking at me like I had two heads because I was still flat against the ground, so I got up. Nothing happened, and so Moody and Bill got up, too. Bill started arguing with me, saying he'd go with Harry because I wasn't ready to handle it.'

'How did you convince him?' asked Ginny.

Ron shrugged. 'I got on one of the planks before he could stop me. Harry was on the other one already, and Bill couldn't come after me because three people would've done something funny and we all would've been killed. He and Moody had no choice but to wait there for us.'

'It was just the two of you?' Hermione gasped.

'What happened next?' asked Ginny.

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but firmly shut it as the floorboard outside of Ginny's room creaked. Someone was outside the door.

'That,' Ron said, 'is a story for another time.'

Ginny groaned but nodded, climbing back into her bed. 'I rather enjoyed this. We should do it again sometime,' she said. Harry lifted the Silencing Charm and the trio Disapparated.

……………………………………………………………

Harry Apparated into Ron's room a second after Ron did.

Yawning and looking slightly concerned about something, Ron asked, 'You really don't remember doing any of that?'

Harry shook his head as Ron cast a Silencing Charm on the room. 'No, I don't,' he said truthfully. He couldn't understand _why _he didn't remember. Ron wouldn't lie about something like that, so it had to have happened. Had he just blocked it out? And had he really done wandless magic, without even realizing it?

'Weird,' said Ron. 'Y'know ... you're kind of scary, in a way.'

'What?' asked Harry. 'Why?'

'Well, not _scary_, really. More like intimidating. If you hadn't been my best mate for the past six years, I don't think I'd know how to handle myself around you.'

'Really?'

'Definitely,' said Ron. 'Come on, you've got to admit it. Some of the things that you do are a little... y'know?'

'I honestly haven't thought about it,' said Harry. He intimidated Ron? He hadn't meant to. Did everyone else feel this way around him? Did Ginny?

'Don't get me wrong, the stuff you do is amazing,' Ron said quickly, 'but it's still a little strange. I mean, you're barely seventeen, and you can do wandless magic! You can walk around in the dark – in a huge trap set up by You-Know-Who – with your eyes closed, and somehow manage to do better than the rest of us could with our eyes open and our wands raised.'

'Yeah, but I didn't –'

'Blimey, Harry, you can do all that – you can fight You-Know-Who and _survive_ every time – but you still can't even be proud of yourself.'

'Fine, would you rather me be full of myself?' Harry asked, feeling his anger rise to the surface. 'Would you rather me embrace the fact that I'm the bloody _Chosen_ _One_? Trust me, Ron, it isn't as wonderful as it might seem!'

'I didn't say it was ... I just said that it wouldn't kill you to acknowledge the fact that you can do a lot of great things!' exclaimed Ron.

'The way I see it, I'm not doing anything particularly wonderful. It's not like I _want _to do these things. In fact, I'd gladly trade lives with _anyone _else in a second,' snapped Harry. 'You think I was looking for Horcruxes tonight because I want to? Incase you haven't noticed, I don't have a choice!'

'What do you mean?'

'You can decide whether or not you want to fight – you can show up or not show up, and I'm sorry, but it doesn't really seal anyone's fate if you don't. But me ... I have to fight. If I don't, Voldemort takes over and everybody suffers,' Harry said quietly. 'If I don't, nobody can stop him. You know about the prophecy, you know that I'm the only one who can get rid of him.'

'I guess,' mumbled Ron.

'Yeah, and I can't just turn my back on that. If my parents had never been killed ...or if I had never survived ... if the name Harry Potter had never meant anything to anyone ... I wouldn't do these "_intimidating things_". I do them because my parents are dead, and I'm not. I do them because being Harry Potter means doing dangerous things from time to time. I do them so I can kill Voldemort, so I can get revenge for what he did to me and my parents, and so I can finally have some peace.'

'You'll be pretty relieved once this is over then, huh?'

'You have no idea,' said Harry. He hesitated before deciding he could talk openly to Ron. He had virtually no secrets from his best friend. 'Who knows ... maybe I'll die in the end. But I don't even think I'd care,' he whispered.

'What?' Ron hissed. 'What the hell are you talking about? You don't mean that!'

'I do. As long as I defeat Voldemort, I really couldn't care less about what happens to me,' admitted Harry. 'If I live, great, I'll be with you and Hermione and ... and Ginny. But if I die, I'll be with my parents and Sirius. Either way, it sounds fine to me. I'm prepared to die for the cause. I've been prepared since I was eleven. Death is just the next great adventure,' he said, echoing Dumbledore's words.

Ron looked as if he might be sick. 'You – you can't be serious! Harry, you aren't going to die!'

'You don't know that,' said Harry. 'I wake up every single day knowing that it might be my last, that it might be the day Voldemort decides to come for me. Can you say that? Can you say that you could die at any moment?'

'No,' Ron said, shaking his head.

'And I'm glad for that. But I can, and after a while, you learn to accept it.'

Ron shook his head again and sat down on his bed, still looking shocked at the thought of Harry dying. Harry was rather surprised that their conversation was lasting as long as it was. Normally, whenever he talked about Voldemort or dying, Ron found a way to change the subject. Perhaps he didn't realize just how _real _the situation was until they went on the mission for the Horcrux. Perhaps the fact that Hermione had been injured sort of drove home the fact that, at any given moment, it could be the end of the Golden Trio.

'Let's face it,' Harry whispered, 'I'm a marked man. I have been since I was one year old. Even if I get rid of Voldemort, his followers will still be alive. They'll still want me dead.'

'That's why you've got me. You take care of Voldemort, and I'll take care of his Death Eaters,' Ron said.

'And what've I got Hermione for? She's not going to like not being included in our plans,' laughed Harry.

'Well ... she'll have to deal with that,' Ron said curtly. 'She and Ginny can sit at home and wait for us to come back, like tonight.'

Harry smiled and nodded. Speaking of Ginny ... he needed to see her. They hadn't had a chance to be alone since he'd gotten back, and a part of him was crying out for her. 'I'm getting a bit tired,' he lied. He faked a yawn and said, 'I'll be going to bed now.'

'Right,' said Ron. 'I will, too.' Harry didn't believe him for a minute.

He Apparated back into Ginny's room, and grinned when he saw her sitting up in her bed, waiting for him. She got up and threw her arms around him.

'I thought you were dead tonight,' she whispered.

Harry laughed softly and then mentally scolded himself. 'Why?'

'Hermione was cut really badly ... you didn't see her ... she was _so _bloody pale. And I remembered McGonagall saying Voldemort might've known what we were up to,' she said quietly. She took a deep, shaky breath and Harry knew that she was crying. 'I thought that m-maybe some Death Eaters h-had shown up. And y-you were gone s-so long and I ...' her sobs drowned out the rest of what she said. Harry hated himself. What did he do to deserve her? Why did she have to give a damn about him? Why did she have to be sick with worry every time he did something dangerous? He did a lot of dangerous things. Was she going to be affected like this every time? If she didn't care, it would have been easier. But if she didn't care ... Harry would be empty. He'd be utterly lost without her. He kissed her forehead and rubbed her back lightly. When she calmed down, she pulled away and asked, 'Will you stay with me tonight?'

'Your mum will kill you if she finds us in the morning. She'll tell your dad, and he'll tell your brothers, who will kill _me_.'

'I don't care if you don't,' she whispered. He hesitated. 'Let's quit dancing around the subject, Harry.' She paused for a moment. 'You can't promise me that you'll be alive in a year, but you can at least promise that you'll stay tonight. My mum might walk in tomorrow and see you in my bed. _I don't care_. Do you?'

Harry shook his head. 'No. I don't care, Gin.' She smiled and nodded. '_Nox_,' he said, putting out the light of his wand.

They crawled into bed and Harry held onto her as her breathing evened out and she fell asleep with her head on his chest.

Harry would die for the cause. He would die for his friends. And he would definitely die for the girl in his arms.

But maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to.

If he lived, it would be for them. It would be for Ginny.

……………………………………………………………

It was too hot in Hermione's room. She couldn't sleep. She had spent the last five minutes or so, since returning to her room, trying to get comfortable. The blankets on her bed were too heavy to sleep under, so she finally settled for lying on top of them. She sighed and tried to clear her head, but it was useless. She had too much on her mind to fall asleep now.

_Crack._

Hermione sat up and looked around.

'Are you awake?' she heard Ron whisper.

'I am now,' she laughed, reaching for her wand. _'Lumos,'_ she whispered.

'Sorry,' he apologized. 'I hope I didn't – I can go, if –'

'No,' Hermione said quickly. 'Stay. I need to talk to you.' She gestured toward the opposite end of her bed and Ron sat down beside her feet, a strange expression on his face. Merlin, he was on her bed!

'What d'you need to talk about?' asked Ron. He stretched out and stifled a yawn, staring at her with serious eyes.

'I ...' She couldn't say it. She couldn't admit that she had been wrong about something. It almost never happened! Sighing, she looked down at her hands and said quietly, 'You were right.'

Ron laughed. 'Excuse me? Did I just hear you say that I was right about something?'

'No need to rub it in!'

Ron stuck out his tongue and laughed again. 'Well ... are you going to tell me what I was right about? Or am I supposed to guess?'

'You were right when you told me to get back to Headquarters,' she admitted. 'I wasn't fine. The Healer said that if I hadn't gotten back when I did, I – I would've died.'

The smug smile slid off of Ron's face, and was replaced with a look similar to the one he made when he was coughing up slugs in their second year. 'Shite ... but – but you're okay now, right?' He got up and moved closer to her.

'Yes, I'm fine.' Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione laughed.

'It wouldn't kill you to take that word out of your vocabulary,' Ron scolded.

'Nice choice of words ...'

'Sorry.'

'No, _I'm _sorry,' said Hermione. 'I knew I was hurt but I was too stubborn to admit it. I didn't want to leave.'

'I know that you don't like to admit that you need help, but –'

'That's not why I didn't want to go,' she confessed. 'I've never _not _gone on a mission with you and Harry – not counting second year when I was Petrified – and the thought of sitting at Headquarters while you were out there wasn't the most appealing. I was afraid that you two would get hurt and I wouldn't be there to help.'

'Oh, please. You can't get rid of me that easily.'

She smiled. 'Get rid of you? I wouldn't dream of it. Of course, sometimes I'd rather like to smack you ...'

Ron looked down at his hands. 'I _have _been quite a git in the past, haven't I?'

'You sure have,' said Hermione. She laughed and Ron grinned up at her. 'Although I've done a thing or two to provoke you, I suppose.'

'Maybe,' Ron said lightly. 'But a few things, I've done on my own. Like calling you "a nightmare," or when I talk with my mouth full just to irritate you, or –'

'Snogging Lavender?' Hermione asked quietly. She could've kicked herself when she saw the pained expression on his face. Maybe he had dated Lavender to get back at her, but it wasn't right of her to throw it in his face – especially when they were actually having a civil conversation. Though she was sure he was about to mention it, anyway.

Ron frowned and nodded. 'Snogging Lavender, definitely, that was one.' His eyes left hers again and traveled down to her previously-injured shoulder. He moved the strap of her top out of the way and brushed his thumb softly against her skin. She inhaled sharply and he pulled away as if he'd been burned. 'Did that hurt?'

'No,' she said. 'It ... it was okay.' In truth, it was much better than okay. She couldn't believe the sensations he could create just by touching her shoulder. Since when did she start melting at his touch?

'About, um, Lavender,' he said slowly, not making eye contact. 'I didn't – I mean, _you _were – she was ...'

'She was what?' asked Hermione, thoroughly amused.

'She was an absolute nightmare,' laughed Ron.

'Hey,' said Hermione, 'I take offence to that! As I was once deemed "a nightmare" by you, I feel it's rather unfair for me to have to share that title with Lavender Brown. I'd like to think I fall under a different heading that her.'

'Trust me, you're a whole other _category_,' insisted Ron. She felt herself blush and was thankful that Ron still wouldn't look at her. 'And I think we already covered that I was a git when I said that about you. But since you like being "a nightmare", I guess I'll need another term for her.'

'I can think of a few. My favourite is "a vindictive, manipulative, insecure, annoying, thick, utterly miserable, absolutely –"'

'That works, yeah,' Ron said. His amused cobalt eyes trained themselves on hers again. 'I can't believe I dated her.'

'I can't, either.'

He took a deep breath before saying, 'I – I ...' he sighed. 'I think I'll go to bed now.' Hermione tried to hide her disappointment. She had been sure he was going to say something ... _else_. 'I'll see you in the morning.'

'Right,' said Hermione. 'Goodnight.'

Ron smiled weakly. Putting a hand on her cheek, he said, 'I'm glad you're okay.'

Before she could say anything, he Disapparated.

……………………………………………………………

**I despise school. But, until my parents start taking my suggestions, I need to continue attending. Bear with me, please.**


	13. The Preparations

**Disclaimer: I don't Harry Potter.**

**Thanks for all the reviews! I love hearing from my readers : )**

**Chapter Thirteen: The Preparations  
**……………………………………………………………

'Ouch, Ron, you elbowed me in the eye again.'

'If you'd quit moving around so much –'

'It's not my fault that you keep pushing me off the edge every three minutes and I need to fight to stay on the bloody bed.'

'Harry, if you'd just sleep on the floor, you wouldn't need to worry about me elbowing you or pushing you off.'

'I'd rather sleep on the floor, but there's no room!'

Ginny sat up and glared through the darkness. 'This is the second night in a row that I've lost sleep because of you two idiots!'

Hermione shifted beside Ginny. 'Everybody, calm down,' she said evenly. 'It's bad enough that we all have to sleep here together ...can't you all _please_ shut up and let me go to sleep?'

Ginny sighed and leaned back on the mattress. It had been five days since Harry, Hermione and her brothers went to Romania. Tomorrow was Bill and Fleur's wedding, and the day after that was Ginny's birthday. The Burrow was now filled with distant relatives of the family who would be attending the wedding. Mrs Weasley had stuffed Ginny, Hermione and Harry into Ron's bedroom with him to make room; Ginny and Hermione were in Harry's bed, and Ron and Harry were in Ron's bed.

The room fell silent and Ginny began to drift off to sleep again. It was about two in the morning, she guessed – so it was, technically, already tomorrow. She had to be up at seven, but hadn't gotten to bed until after midnight. Now she was up again. If she didn't get some sleep, she'd probably pass out from exhaustion during the ceremony. And the two imbeciles in the bed next to hers weren't helping.

'Harry! Quit kneeing me in the ribs!'

'Bloody hell,' Ginny muttered under her breath. 'Keep it up, Ron, and Harry's knee will be the least of your worries.'

'Would you both _stay still?_' demanded Hermione.

'He won't stop moving,' complained Ron.

'You take up too much space,' Harry grumbled.

'Then switch,' Ginny growled. 'Harry can sleep with me and Hermione can sleep with Ron.'

'Harry is _not _sleeping with you,' insisted Ron. He sighed heavily. 'Ginny, I'm your brother. You can sleep with me if you've got such a bloody problem with everything.'

Ginny scowled. So it was perfectly fine for him to share his bed with Hermione, but because that meant Harry would be in her bed, it wasn't allowed? What a double-standard. 'Fine,' said Ginny. 'Then I guess I'll sleep in your bed and Harry can sleep with Hermione in this one. Hermione's rather pretty, though. I hope Harry doesn't get fresh with her in the night.'

'Hermione, get over here,' Ron said quickly.

Ginny smirked into the darkness and Hermione sighed before getting on her feet, leaving Ginny by herself on the bed. She heard a creak on the opposite side of the room as Harry got up from Ron's bed. He climbed in beside her and put an arm around her.

'Don't get any ideas, Potter,' she whispered. Harry laughed and pulled her closer to him. She sighed contentedly and got as close to him as possible. Tomorrow was the wedding. Harry would have to make a decision. She knew she should've felt slightly nervous or unsure, but the way he was holding her, she was positive that they'd be together by the time the wedding reception was done. She felt too safe in his arms to think otherwise. She shut her eyes and listened as Ron mumbled something to Hermione and she settled down beside him. 'There,' Ginny said when everyone was still. 'Can everybody sleep now?'

'Yes,' they said.

'Ron's going to keep his elbows to himself and Harry's not going to knee me in the ribs, or anywhere else, right?'

'Yes.'

'Okay. Goodnight.'

'Goodnight.'

……………………………………………………………

'Oh, zis is 'orrible!'

Hermione's eyes snapped open. It was still rather dark in the room and a little early for even her to be waking up. A tiny, almost non-existent amount of light was filtering in through the curtains, allowing her to see Ron, who was sleeping beside her. She was on her side, facing him, with his arm draped over her hip. She smiled and closed her eyes again.

'Ze wedding cannot 'appen now!Zis is a disaster!'

What? The wedding was off? Fleur and Bill's wedding?

Hermione slowly got out of bed, careful not to wake Ron, and crossed the room to where Ginny and Harry were snuggled up in their bed. Her head was on his chest and his arms were wrapped protectively around her. They looked so peaceful together that she felt bad for disturbing them, but Hermione grew annoyed when she poked Ginny in the arm and the girl groaned but didn't wake. The room was silent and Fleur's cries could be heard clearly from the kitchen.

'Ginny, wake up,' whispered Hermione. She tapped her again.

'No. I like it here,' Ginny mumbled, her eyes still shut. 'It's too early to get up.' She sighed and Harry opened his eyes, blinking stupidly.

'Go to sleep, Hermione,' murmured Harry. His hand began lazily tracing small circles on Ginny's back.

'Yeah, the wedding isn't for hours,' said Ginny (although she was right, Hermione knew Ginny really had no idea what time it was, anyway). She shifted and smiled slightly. 'We're sleeping, incase you haven't noticed.'

'There isn't going to be a wedding,' Hermione whispered hoarsely. 'Can't you hear Fleur crying down there? She said the wedding isn't going to happen.'

Harry smiled weakly, seemingly half-asleep. 'I guess we can sleep in then, huh?' he laughed. Ginny giggled softly and Hermione scowled.

'Phlegm said the wedding was off?' asked Ginny. Hermione nodded, waiting for Ginny to get out of bed. Instead, she whispered, 'Thank Merlin. I won't have to wear that awful dress.' Harry chuckled.

'Get up this instant, Ginny. We have to go downstairs and see what's wrong.'

'Why can't you go by yourself?' asked Ginny, whose eyes were still closed. 'I'm not going. I love my brother and I suppose I can live with _her_ being his wife, but there's no way I'm going to drag my arse out of bed thisearly just to play matchmaker for them.'

Hermione couldn't go by herself! What if Fleur and Bill were downstairs breaking up? She and Ginny might be able to walk into the kitchen and calm them down, but it'd be horribly inappropriate and completely out of the question for _only _Hermione to walk in and try to sort things out.

'You're coming with me,' Hermione said, quiet but firm.

'Come on, Hermione. Let us sleep,' pleaded Harry. 'They have cold feet. That's all.'

'There's no way I'm coming with you,' muttered Ginny. 'The sun isn't even up yet.'

'Yes, it is.'

Ginny opened her eyes. 'Okay, so it is. But _barely_.' Hermione rolled her eyes. 'I don't want to go. I'm warm in here.'

'Of course you're warm,' Hermione whispered angrily. 'It's August. It's _always _warm. Besides, you'll need to get up soon, anyway.'

'Harry,' Ginny said sleepily, closing her eyes again and burying her face in his neck, 'tell her to leave me alone.'

Harry sighed. 'Leave her alone, Hermione.'

Ginny laughed. 'I don't want to get up,' she complained. 'If the wedding's really off ...I say we stay here all day. Hermione, you can take Ron down to my room and keep him busy.'

'And you and Harry will ...?'

Harry yawned and smiled. 'Keep busy.'

'I cannot believe zis! 'Ow could zis 'ave 'appened? I was supposed to 'ave a wedding today!'

Ginny's eyes snapped open when Fleur's sobs filled the room. 'They've really called it off?' Hermione shrugged. She didn't know what had happened, but from the sounds of it, Bill had really called it off. 'Shit.' Ginny exhaled dramatically and sat up. 'Let's go.' Harry sighed and shut his eyes sleepily as Ginny climbed over him and left the room with Hermione.

'Now, Fleur, everything will be fine,' said Mrs Weasley. 'You can just have three bridesmaids instead of four.'

Hermione and Ginny cautiously crept into the kitchen to find Fleur crying at the table, being comforted by Mrs Weasley and Fleur's sister, Gabrielle. Hermione wasn't surprised to see that Fleur's mother wasn't there, comforting her daughter. She probably needed her "beauty sleep".

'Yes, Fleur, eet will be okay,' said Gabrielle, who was rubbing her sister's back as she sobbed onto Mrs Weasley's shoulder. 'Nobody will notice that she is missing.'

Ginny yawned. 'Mum? What's going on?'

Mrs Weasley looked up at the girls and frowned. 'It appears that one of Fleur's bridesmaids had an ...accident, of sorts, and she won't be able to participate in the wedding.'

'Ze numbers will be uneven! Bill will 'ave four and I will 'ave three!' cried Fleur.

'And you're going to let _that _ruin your wedding? That's ridiculous!' Hermione said incredulously. She didn't mean for it to sound so accusing, but the look on Gabrielle's face told her it had.

'My seester is _not _–'

'She is right,' said Fleur. 'Zis is our day. Allete won't be zere and things will be uneven. Many of our family will point eet out and laugh, but I do not care! I am going to 'ave my wedding!'

Mrs Weasley sighed in relief and Gabrielle smiled at her sister. 'Crisis avoided,' Ginny mumbled so only Hermione could hear. 'Can I go to back to bed now?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I suppose,' she said quietly. 'We're going back to bed for a little while,' Hermione announced to the women in the kitchen. 'Wake us if you need anything else.'

She hadn't meant it literally – only as a friendly offer, one she never imagined Fleur would take her up on.

'I 'ave an idea!' exclaimed Fleur. 'You can be my bridesmaid, 'Ermione!'

'Wh-what?' Hermione stammered. At least Fleur had gotten her name right for once. 'I can't ...I can't be a bridesmaid. I don't have a dress! And I don't know what to do ...oh, I'm sorry but I can't.'

Fleur shook her head and stood up. 'No, you _can_. Zere is ze dress zat Allete was supposed to wear.' Hermione tried to remember which one Allete was. Was she the one who was full Veela? Allete ...she couldn't put a face to the name.

'Will it fit her, Mum?' asked Ginny, who seemed to be enjoying the scene before her more than she should have.

'I suppose we could give it a try ...' said Mrs Weasley. She considered Hermione for a moment. 'She's about the same height, and ...'

Oh, right. Allete was the one she and Ginny called "The Toothpick". Allete was tall and insanely thin. Hermione gasped and shook her head again. She was fairly slim herself, but she was no _toothpick_. 'I can't do it,' she said nervously.

'But of course you can,' said Gabrielle. 'Ginny and I are doing it.'

Hermione couldn't see a way out ...how could she possibly tell Fleur she wouldn't cooperate? Fleur wasn't her favourite person in the world, but she was marrying a Weasley, and Hermione would do anything for a Weasley. They were all too wonderful to disappoint, and she knew that Bill and Mrs Weasley would appreciate it if she agreed.

Nodding, she reluctantly said, 'Okay.'

……………………………………………………………

'Have you seen Hermione?' asked Ron. The wedding was starting in a half hour. Most of the guests were outside (the backyard was rather full by now), leaving only the wedding party and other important family members (Harry, included) inside.

Harry shook his head. 'No.'

Ron nodded and went back to the mirror, where he was desperately trying to master the art of tying a tie. He couldn't believe he had to wear one ...it was _Bill's _wedding. When it was _Ron's _wedding, Ron would wear a tie. Did he honestly have to wear the thing? Nobody would be looking at him, anyway. Sighing, he let it hang loosely around his neck and turned away from the mirror. He had never had that much trouble with his Hogwarts uniform.

'I can't believe she got roped into being a bridesmaid,' said Ron.

Harry stared blankly at him. 'Who?'

'Hermione.'

'Oh ...right,' Harry said. He furrowed his brow and stared off into space, looking like he was in deep thought about something. Ron wanted to ask him what was going on with him today (he'd been spacing out like this since they'd woken up and started getting ready for the wedding) but something told him it would be best to ignore his friend and hope it would pass. Harry didn't worry about insignificant things. He worried about things like Voldemort or Horcruxes. Anything Harry had to be concerned about couldn't be something Ron particularly wanted to hear before Bill's wedding – a _happy _occasion that he was celebrating with his family.

Perhaps it had something to do with Lucius Malfoy breaking out of Azkaban.It had been on the front page of the _Daily Prophet _three days ago. But that couldn't be what Harry was thinking about. This strange mood of his had only started a few hours ago, and he'd known about Malfoy for days.

Fred and George came into the room. 'Looking good, Harry,' said Fred.

'Ickle Ronniekins is wearing a tie,' gushed George. 'What a _man _he's turning into.'

'Shut up,' snapped Ron.

'Harry, you're sitting with us during the wedding,' Fred said.

Harry looked up at them. 'Huh? Yeah, yeah ...right. I am.' He nodded and looked away again.

The twins gave him a strange look. 'Since we weren't asked to be involved in the ceremony at all,' George said loudly, knowing that Bill was walking by.

Ron's eldest brother came in the room. 'I can't believe it,' said Fred, shaking his head slightly. 'We're family, and we don't even get a small role.'

'Charlie's your best man. Ron's a groomsman. Even_ Ginny's_ involved!' exclaimed George. Harry's head snapped up at the mention of Ginny.

Fred said, 'Yeah, come on, Bill. What're we supposed to do?'

Bill cleared his throat. 'You're supposed to sit down and not make a scene. You're supposed to keep all of your jokes and products away from the guests,' he recited, as if reading from an invisible rulebook. 'You're supposed to avoid Percy, and if you can't avoid him, you're supposed to remember that if you can't say anything nice, you shouldn't say anything at all.'

'Percy. I forgot he'd be here,' said Ron. He didn't want to see his brother, the one who, as far as he was concerned, _wasn't _his brother – especially after last Christmas. But his mum had made Bill invite him, and not even Mr Weasley was going to say otherwise.

'That goes for all of us,' continued Bill. 'I'm sure each and every one of us would like to hex Percy into oblivion, but not today. Not at my wedding. I'll be damned if I let anything ruin this for Fleur.'

Ron cleared his throat and left the room, Harry close behind him. They heard a loud series of screams echoing from the floor below them, followed by Fred and George's laughter, and Bill's screams of '_What did you do?'_

Ron and Harry rushed down the stairs to the room where the girls were supposed to be putting on the finishing touches. Ron pushed open the door and froze. Fleur was screaming and waving her hands above her head, as if protecting her hair from something. Oriel, Fleur's best friend, was shrieking and pointing at something near the ceiling. Gabrielle was ducking and trying to calm her sister down at the same time. Ginny looked thoroughly amused as she watched the three girls shriek. Hermione's dress wasn't on properly on. It was the perfect length off the ground and fit fine in the waist. The problem wasn't until you saw her chest, which wasn't covered by anything except her bra. The section of the dress that should've been there was hanging down around her sides. She had her wand out and was waving it around, shooting spells into various corners, completely unfazed by her appearance.

At last, the cause for all the excitement was stopped: Hermione managed to Stun a slimy, hairy, winged _creature _that had been flying around the room and had no doubt been slipped inside by Fred or George.

'Oh!' cried Hermione, who finally noticed that Ron and Harry were standing in the doorway. She crossed her arms over her chest and blushed. Ginny smiled at them and, pulling Hermione along, walked over.

'Can you zip me up?' asked Ginny, putting her back to them. Ron was about to do it – he could've sworn she had been looking at him and she was his sister, after all – when Harry carefully moved her hair out of the way and gently pulled up the zipper, taking slightly too long in doing so. Ginny turned around again. 'Thanks. Hermione and I need to go see Mum.' She looked at Hermione, who was avoiding their eyes. 'The Toothpick's dress fits well in the waist, but it turns out that she's got a rather flat chest. We need to, er, _increase _the bust in the dress. Or shrink Hermione's,' she laughed.

'Not funny, Ginny. Let's go find your Mum so I can cover myself up!'

'Okay, don't get your knickers in a twist,' said Ginny. She smiled and they walked away to find Mrs Weasley.

'Ron!' Ron spun around and saw Bill rushing toward them. 'What happened? Who was screaming?'

'Bill!' screeched Gabrielle, appearing in the doorway. 'You cannot be 'ere! Eet is not right for you to see Fleur before ze wedding!'

'Is everything okay in there?' asked Bill.

'Yes, eet 'as been cleared up,' Gabrielle said before disappearing back inside the room and shutting the door.

'Okay, _you_,' said Bill, pointing at Ron, 'get upstairs and have someone fix your tie. And _you _–' he pointed to Harry 'go get Ginny and Hermione, and have them get all the girls to line up outside. We're starting this thing in a few minutes.'

Harry nodded and went off to find Hermione and Ginny. Ron went upstairs and found Charlie, who tied his tie for him.

Ten minutes later, everyone was scrambling to get outside and start the ceremony. Bill and Charlie were already out there, waiting for everyone else to come out.

'Okay,' said Mrs Weasley, who was rushing around, trying to get everyone in order. 'We'll start with Ginny and Mason.' Ginny's hair was in tight curls and her gold dress complimented her fair skin and hair colour rather nicely. She was standing beside a tall, attractive blonde boy about Ron's age. Mason was Fleur's favourite cousin, according to Bill, and although he seemed a tad standoffish, Ron was under strict orders to be friendly. 'Gabrielle, dear, you're next. Stand beside Seb.' Seb was a friend Bill made while in Egypt, who had gotten in that morning, just in time for the wedding. Gabrielle's long blonde hair was in the same style as Ginny's and the pale gold of the bridesmaids dresses made her hair appear all the more silvery. 'Hermione is here, and Ronnie, you're beside her,' said Mrs Weasley, pointing at the spot behind Gabrielle and Seb.

'I can't believe I'm doing this,' muttered Hermione. 'I mean ..._look _at me.' Ron grinned at her and listened as his mother directed Oriel, the maid of honour, to stand behind them. Oriel was stunning, and Ron was fairly certain that she was half (if not full) Veela. Nonetheless, Ron thought Hermione looked much nicer than Oriel.

'Get over yourself,' said Ron. 'You look great.' She smiled and blushed. Her brown hair was no longer bushy and frizzy. It was sleek and curled, framing her face. The gold dress she was in hugged her curves nicely and made Ron feel short of breath.

'You look lovely, dear,' Mrs Weasley told Fleur as she and her father stood behind Oriel. Fleur was in a white wedding dress and her long hair was in a fancy upsweep. She had Ron's Great Auntie Muriel's tiara on her head and it sparkled against her hair. She was holding onto her father, an older-looking blonde man. 'Okay, it's time to move. Good luck.' Mrs Weasley slipped past them and went to find her seat.

Ginny and Mason walked down the aisle slowly and everyone else moved up a few steps. Gabrielle and Seb went next, walking in the same pace as the previous two.

'I look ridiculous. I can't do this!' whispered Hermione as she and Ron began moving again.

Ron rolled his eyes. She didn't look ridiculous at all. If anything, she was outshining the bloody bride. 'Come on, Hermione. You can't quit now, y'know. I bet Voldemort must seem like a joke now, huh?' Ron joked. Hermione sighed and ignored his sarcastic remarks. 'You're doing this whether you want to or not. I'm not walking down that aisle thing by myself. I'll carry you – I'll _drag _you – if I have to.'

They walked down the aisle together, putting on fake smiles as they went. Chairs were on either side of them, the Weasley family on one side and Fleur's family on the other. Ron could see Harry at the front, beside Fred, George and Ron's parents. Ron also saw Percy, who was sitting far away from the family, with the Minister of Magic to his left. Ron felt a new sense of hate toward his brother. The only reason he had come to the wedding was so Scrimgeourwould have a chance to speak with Harry. Percy was probably counting the minutes until he could leave and return to his beloved Ministry. And now, so was Ron.

When they got to the altar that had been put in especially for the wedding, Ron and Hermione split apart and stood on opposite sides of it. Ron stood beside Charlie, waiting as Oriel walked down the aisle and stood beside Hermione.

Music began to play as Fleur and her father appeared. When she let go of her father's arm and came to stand beside Bill, Ron couldn't help but smile at the look on his brother's face.

Despite what any of them said about Fleur, she made Bill happy. Bill loved her. Someday, Ron would find a girl who made him feel like that.

Ron shifted his gaze to Hermione, who was staring at him fondly. He grinned and she blushed slightly, but didn't look away.

Maybe he had already found her.

……………………………………………………………

**Review!**


	14. The Wedding

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Chapter Fourteen: The Wedding  
**……………………………………………………………

Hermione was surprised to find that weddings in the wizarding world were not unlike those in the Muggle world.

There were bridesmaids and groomsmen. The father gave the bride away, and the couple exchanged rings and vows. There were some differences, though. After the rings and the vows, there was the Binding Ceremony, in which the couple's souls were magically bound together forever. She'd read all about it, of course, but it was one thing to read about something and another thing entirely to experience it. One thing Hermione didn't know, but was pleasantly surprised to discover, was that divorce wasn't an option in wizarding marriages.

After the ceremony, there was a huge feast prepared by Mrs Weasley, followed by dancing. The altar and wedding layout in the backyard were gone now, replaced by several tables and chairs and an area for dancing. Ginny was across the backyard, chatting with Tonks and Professor McGonagall. Hermione, Ron and Harry were sitting at one of the tables when a tall boy with red hair and freckles approached the table. He was very good-looking, and he seemed to know it, too.

'Hello, Ron,' he said brightly.

'Eyeghun,' said Ron through a mouthful of food. Hermione shook her head at him but said nothing. Ron swallowed and smiled in what appeared to be a forced way. 'This is my cousin. Have you met my friends, Ian?' He pointed at Harry. 'This is –'

'Harry Potter,' Ian said quickly. He shook his hand eagerly and grinned. 'It's great to meet you, Harry. When I heard that you were _here_, with Ron, I thought for sure it was some kind of joke.'

Hermione noticed Ron narrow his eyes at his cousin, but Ian didn't notice. He was too busy going on and on to Harry about how badly he'd wanted to meet him.

'But,' continued Ian, who now turned to look at Hermione, 'Harry isn't the reason I came over here. You are.'

'I am?' asked Hermione.

'You are. What's your name?'

'Hermione,' she said quietly. 'It's, um,nice to meet you.' Hermione didn't think it was all _that_ nice, though.

'The pleasure is all mine,' he said smoothly. 'I noticed you during the ceremony. You look very stunning in that dress. Would you care to take a walk with me, so we can get to know each other better?'

Hermione blushed at the mention of the word stunning. She smiled and nodded politely, but truthfully, she didn't want to go off with him. She was supposed to be at this wedding with Ron. At least, that's what she thought. He hadn't mentioned her going with him since the day he'd asked her. And even then, it hadn't been too clear as to what he had meant, exactly.

'I'm sure these two won't mind me taking you away,' Ian chuckled.

Ron was currently shooting daggers at Ian. His face was slightly red and he looked as if he was going to throw a punch at any moment. Hermione exchanged looks with Harry and hesitantly stood up. She felt a hand take hold of her arm. Ian gripped her arm tightly and she risked a glance at Ron as she was being led away from the table.

'Actually,' said Ron, stepping in front of his cousin, 'I _do _mind.'

'Well, Ron, that isn't really my problem,' said Ian.

'I can make it your problem.'

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked to Harry for help. Harry jumped up from his seat and approached them quickly. 'Ron,' said Harry, 'remember where you are.'

'Yes, dear cousin, you wouldn't want to make a scene at your brother's wedding, would you?'

Ron gritted his teeth, his face almost the same shade of red as his hair. 'You bet your arse I would.'

'Ah, yes, I'd forgotten how much of a temper your part of the family had,' barked Ian. He leaned in closer to Ron, his eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled into a smirk worthy of Malfoy. 'But you've got to have _something_, I suppose. Tell me ... what's it like to be best friends with the pretty girl and the famous boy and still be a worthless –?'

Ron was about to punch him when Harry reached out and caught his fist. Harry was too busy restraining Ron to pay attention to Hermione, however, and before she even realized what she was doing, she had slapped Ian across the face with her free hand. 'Tell me,' she said angrily as Ron and Harry gaped at her, 'what's it like to be so utterly _jealous _of someone that you feel the need to personally attack them with absolutely _ridiculous _accusations?'

Ian glared at her for a moment. There was the faint outline of her handprint on his left cheek. 'You're absolutely mad. And now that I think about it, you aren't even that pretty.' He spun around and almost bumped right into Ginny.

'Ian ... hello,' she greeted, though it sounded more like some sort of threat.

'Hello, Ginny. Lovely wedding, yeah? Well, I should go congratulate Bill. See you,' he said quickly. Without another look at any of them, he rushed off.

'He's always been rather frightened of me,' Ginny laughed. 'At first, I tried to correct it. But now, I like to have a little fun with him.' Harry smiled at her.

Ron was grinning, but not at Ginny. He was staring at Hermione with a look of awe and admiration on his face. 'I think I enjoyed that even more than when you punched Malfoy.'

'Hermione punched Ian?' asked Ginny.

'No, but she slapped him,' Harry grinned.

'And it was bloody brilliant!' exclaimed Ron.

'Oh, I wish I'd been here. I could've gotten a smack or two in myself,' said Ginny. 'I can't stand that git. I can't believe he's family.'

'Right, well, c'mon Hermione. Let's dance,' said Ron. Hermione tried desperately to hide her grin as she followed him out to the dance floor.

As they left Ginny and Harry, she heard Ginny say, 'Ron's always hated Ian.'

……………………………………………………………

'Ron's always hated Ian,' Ginny told Harry as Ron and Hermione left.

'I'm starting to dislike him myself,' said Harry. 'And I've only known him for five minutes.' He sat back down in his seat and sighed. Ginny was going to ask him now. They had agreed to wait until the wedding to talk about "them" ... and there they were, at the wedding, alone. It was the perfect situation to discuss what they needed to discuss.

'Phlegm looks rather nice in her dress, I have to admit,' said Ginny. She sat down in Hermione's vacant chair and stared across the backyard at Bill and Fleur.

'Er ... yeah,' Harry said awkwardly. Would she get mad if he said that Fleur looked pretty? She had said it, but would she care if he did, too? 'You look great, too, Gin.'

Ginny smiled. 'Thank you ... It was a lovely ceremony, don't you think?'

'Yeah ... very nice,' said Harry. Was she making small talk with him? _Him? _In some ways, this bothered him even more than if she would've brought up the question that was no doubt on her mind. Was she waiting for him to bring it up, perhaps?

Merlin, he was terrible when it came to girls.

No, he was fine with Hermione ... she was a girl. Andmost of the time,he was okay with Ginny. He had no problem talking to Mrs Weasley, Tonks or McGonagall ... they counted as girls, didn't they? They were female. They counted.

Harry had not felt this uncomfortable around Ginny since his first stay at The Burrow, when she spent the majority of her time watching him or hiding from him. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes before the blonde boy that had been one of Bill's groomsmen walked up.

'Ginny, 'ello. I 'ope I am not interrupting anything,' he said.

'Hey, Mason,' said Ginny cheerfully. 'No, it's fine. Would you like to sit down?'

'Actually, I was 'oping you would dance with me,' Mason said, casting a nervous glance at Harry. 'Unless ... are you and 'Arry ...?'

Harry felt a pang of jealousy when Ginny smiled at his request for a dance. He was tempted to tell him that they were, in fact, a couple, just to bother him and send him back to his table with a dejected look on his face. But then he realized that he was no say in anything Ginny did, because they were _not_ a couple – not officially.

'No,' Ginny said quickly. 'I'd love to dance with you.' Ginny looked at Harry and raised her eyebrows, as if daring him to say something. She wanted him to stop her, Harry could tell. She wanted him to speak up and claim her as his.

He watched her and Mason go.

He didn't even know what he was going to tell her when she asked. He had been trying to come to a decision about "them" for an entire week.

When he had suggested waiting until the wedding to decide whether or not he was willing to put her at risk by dating her, he had thought that would give him a ton of time to decide. He hadn't thought that, in the time between then and now, he'd have found two Horcruxes, studied for his Apparition test, spent an insane amount of time at Grimmauld Place doing research and strategizing (despite their efforts, the Order's progress was at a standstill), and helped prepare for the wedding. In his head, he'd imagined the past two and a half weeks very differently.

Now, he was hoping that he'd be able to look at her and just _know _the answer. So far, he hadn't had that particular luck. In fact, he was looking at her now, and all he could think was about how badly he wanted to hex Mason for touching her, for even _looking _at her.

Was that a sign that he should be with her? Not really.

He was aware of his feelings for her. You couldn't spend twenty four hours a day with someone (an ex-girlfriend who you were _not_ over, by any means, and want to be with more than _anything_) without falling in lo––

'Did you miss me?' Ginny asked, returning to the table.

Harry's throat was suddenly too thick to speak. He nodded and stood up. 'Dance ...' he forced out, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

Ginny smiled and put her arms around his neck. Harry rested his hands on her lower back and breathed in deeply. Her hair smelled like heaven. It was vanilla and strawberries and flowers mixed together with an extra special secret ingredient thrown in.

'Where d'you keep your wand in a dress like that?' Harry asked. The gold dress was (deliciously) tightand Harry didn't know where she would stash her wand.

'I don't know about the other girls, but I'm keeping mine in my room,' said Ginny.

'You don't have a wand? Is that safe?'

Ginny laughed. 'Of course it is. We're only in the backyard, y'know. Do you have yours on you?'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

'Why? Are you planning on being attacked today?'

'You never know,' Harry said jokingly. But it _was _possible. A big group of wizards, including Harry Potter, Aurors and many known Order members ...

'That reminds me,' said Ginny. 'I spoke to McGonagall. She had to go back to Hogwarts, but she said to tell you that there will be another meeting tomorrow at Headquarters.'

Harry nodded. 'You're taking this very well.'

'Taking what very well?'

'Well ... I've never really enjoyed my birthday but you always get excited when it's yours,' said Harry. 'Yours is tomorrow and we've got to spend it at an Order meeting. _And _that means that Fleur planned the wedding for the day before your birthday. Stealing your thunder, don't you think?'

Ginny sighed. 'To be fair, Fleur didn't know when my birthday was when she set the date.'

'But Bill did,' said Harry.

'I suppose I'll just have to hate him forever, then,' she said sarcastically. 'It doesn't really bother me, to be honest.'

'Wow. Little Ginny Weasley's all grown up.'

'Shut up.' Ginny rolled her eyes and rested her head on his chest. Harry sensed that it was about to happen. Sure enough, Ginny lifted her head again, took a few deep breaths, and asked, 'Have you – have you thought about what we talked about before?'

Harry paused before saying, 'Yeah, I have.'

She looked up at him expectantly. 'And ...?' They both stopped dancing.

Her eyes – her beautiful brown eyes – bore into his soul. He remembered the first time he saw her, at the train station. He remembered the way she looked, running alongside the train, desperate to get to Hogwarts and join her brothers. She was so free and happy and full of life.

Regardless of what she said or did, no matter how hard she tried, Harry could still see "Little Ginny Weasley" inside of her from time to time.

She was still the sweet little girl who put her elbow in the butter dish and would blush a furious shade of red whenever Harry entered the room or looked in her direction. She was the helpless child who had been possessed by Lord Voldemort. When Harry closed his eyes, he could still picture her there, lying on the floor in the Chamber of Secrets, incredibly pale and near-death.

And he couldn't do that to her again.

If something happened to her this time around ... something worse, and she lost the old Ginny, Harry would never forgive himself.

'I can't,' he whispered. Ginny's face fell. Harry brought his hands up to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. 'Gin ... I...' Why couldn't he say it? It wasn't that complicated. He'd never done it before, but it had always seemed rather easy. His throat was dry and his tongue felt swollen in his mouth ... but he forced himself to say it. 'I love you.' Ginny's eyes were watered over and Harry could tell she wanted to protest, but she said nothing. 'I've never ... loved someone before – except maybe Sirius and my parents. And things didn't exactly turn out great for any of them,' he said. 'That's how things work for me. Anyone that I love gets taken away from me. I know that you probably hate me now, but I'd rather you never talk to me again than be taken away forever because I couldn't control myself.'

Ginny covered her hands with his and gently removed them from her face. She looked down at her feet. 'I don't hate you, Harry. I could never hate you,' she said quietly. She raised her head and her eyes met his. 'I ...' She shook her head sadly and gave a strangled sort of laugh. 'It doesn't matter now.'

But it _did _matter ...

She walked away, weaving in and out of people. She passed Ron and Hermione (who were still dancing) and Harry saw Hermione whisper something to Ron and follow Ginny. Ron came over to Harry and they walked back to their table, both sulking for a different reason. Harry didn't bother to ask what was wrong with Ron. He didn't particularly care at the moment.

It was a few minutes later that they heard Mrs Weasley's screams.

……………………………………………………………

Hermione and Ron joined the other dancing pairs and Hermione had to look away when Mrs Weasley nudged Mr Weasley and the two smiled encouragingly at Hermione as Ron put his hands on her lower back and pulled her close. 'I hate Ian,' Ron told her as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

'I can't imagine why,' she said dryly.

'He's not even a month older than me, but for some reason, he's got it in his head that he's superior. Every time I see him he points out that he's got something I haven't or done something I haven't. I'd love to see his face if I said, "Ian, last week I went on a mission with _the pretty girl and the famous boy_, and we destroyed part of You-Know-Who's soul. What did you do during that time?" That lousy git,' said Ron.

'Keep your voice down,' scolded Hermione.

'But I suppose,' Ron continued, ignoring her, 'he'd just tell me that while I was off gallivanting through a tunnel underneath some graveyard in Romania, he was playing Quidditch in his backyard with his brothers and sisters, and somehow try to convince me that he was still better.'

'I'm rather glad I slapped him.' Hermione smiled proudly.

'I am, too. Although I wish Harry hadn't stopped me from punching his lights out.'

'You can get him next time,' she said comfortingly. Ron laughed. Hermione caught a glimpse of Ian, about fifty yards away, staring at them as they danced. 'Merlin, he's watching us.'

Ron looked around, spotted his cousin, and gestured rudely at him. Hermione didn't even scold him. She considered giving him a gesture of her own, but decided against it.

Ian enraged her more than she had expected. He clearly thought that he was the most amazing creature to ever walk the earth. He was arrogant and rude. But that wasn't what bothered her. She couldn't stand what he'd said to Ron, the way he acted like Ron was something he'd scrape off the bottom of his shoe. And as she saw the look on his face as she danced with Ron, she felt the urge to slap him stirring inside of her again.

'You didn't, um, _want _to go with him ... did you?' asked Ron.

'No!' she said quickly. 'I just didn't want to be rude.'

'Good,' Ron said, sounding relieved. 'I know him a lot better than you do, and his idea of "getting to know you better" isn't exactly the same as yours, I'm sure.'

Hermione shuddered. 'No, I'm sure it isn't. He's ...'

'A huge prat,' Ron supplied.'And he's a liar, too.' Hermione raised her eyebrows in question. 'You _are_ that pretty.'

She felt herself blush and gingerly leaned forward to rest her head on his chest as they danced. She spotted Ginny dancing with Fleur's cousin, Mason, and wondered where Harry was. When the table they'd been sitting at came into view, she saw that he was still sitting there, looking confused and slightly annoyed. They remained silent for a few moments before Hermione spoke.

'Since when do you know how to dance?'

Ron's laughter rumbled in his chest. 'I've always known how to dance.'

'What about the Yule Ball in fourth year? Padma said she had a horrible time because you wouldn't dance with her.'

'_Wouldn't_ is the key word,' said Ron. 'I was too busy sulking over you.'

Hermione laughed softly. 'I get it,' she said. 'You were so shocked from the realization that I was of the female gender that you couldn't think straight, much less dance.'

'I knew you were a girl,' he said firmly. 'I just ... I didn't think you'd ever settle for going with me, so I didn't bother asking ...'

'I wanted to go with you.' Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could hear his heartbeat, which was strong but slightly quicker than it had been a minute ago.

'No, you didn't,' he said, though he didn't sound sure of himself. 'You had _Vicky_.'

She pulled away and looked at him. 'Viktor invited me to visit him in Bulgaria during the summer before fifth year,' she said. She could feel herself getting angry with him. Why did he always need to bring Viktor into everything? 'And do you know where I was during that summer? I was at Grimmauld Place with you. That's where I wanted to be. Not with Viktor.'

Ron smiled weakly at her. 'That's where I wanted you, too. And not just because I didn't like Viktor.'

'You didn't like Viktor?' Hermione asked, faking surprise. 'I'd have never known if you hadn't admitted to it now.' Ron laughed. Ginny, who had long since broken off from Mason, was now dancing with Harry. They appeared to be in heavy discussion about something. Hermione sighed and put her head back on his chest. 'Once we're done with this party, I suppose I'll have to pack my things.'

'Why?' Ron asked, sounding alarmed.

'My parents want me to come home, don't you remember?'

'Oh.' His face fell. 'Right ... I remember. But why now?'

'McGonagall sent them an owl about my injury and the next morning when they replied, they said that they wanted to bring me home immediately. I told them I wasn't leaving until after the wedding ... and the wedding's over now, so they'll be here tonight ...'

'You can't go home!' exclaimed Ron. 'Not yet! We need you here.'

'That's what I said, but they don't seem to care very much,' Hermione said sadly. She lifted her head off of his chest once more and looked at him.

'When am I going to see you again, then? We probably won't have any school in September ... are your parents going to make you stay with them until Harry gets rid of You-Know-Who and it's safe again?'

Hermione looked down at her feet. 'They don't really know all that much about Voldemort, actually. I've never given them too much information, and when McGonagall wrote them, she didn't mention anything about what I was doing when I got hurt because it was a security risk for us and them.'

'So how do they think you got hurt?'

'I'm not sure,' she said. 'But they're taking me back home, that's what matters. You and Harry will have to go on those missions without me, I suppose.'

'Maybe if we talk to your parents, they'll –'

'They won't listen, Ron. This is it, I'm going home.'

Ron sighed and put a hand underneath her chin, forcing her to look at him again. He looked nervous and slightly worried, and she wondered what would be the cause. 'Hermione, I – I ... um ...'

She was sure he was about to say something important, but it was at that exact moment that Ginny walked past them huffily, looking furious and slightly teary-eyed, heading toward the pond.

'I should go see if she's okay ...' Hermione said reluctantly.

Ron nodded and watched, concerned, as his sister disappeared from sight. Giving him one last look, Hermione let go of him and followed Ginny. When she finally found Ginny, the girl was sitting by the pond, staring angrily into space and sniffing.

'Ginny?'

Ginny wiped her eyes but didn't respond. Not caring if her dress got a grass stain on it, Hermione sat down beside her friend. 'He doesn't know anything about l-love,' Ginny wept.

It didn't take Hermione long to figure out who Ginny was talking about.

She put a comforting arm around Ginny's shoulder. 'He thinks he's protecting you,' she justified.

'From wh-what? Death Eaters? Voldemort? It's n-nothing I h-haven't f-faced before!' Ginny cried indignantly. She took a deep breath and crumbled into Hermione. 'He said h-he l-loved me and that he didn't w-want to lose me. I l-love him, but do I get any s-say in whether or n-not _he_ fights? N-no!'

Harry loved her?

She knew that he cared about her, yes, but she hadn't known that he _loved _her.

And Ginny loved him, too. Hermione had already known this, but the enormity of Ginny's feelings for Harry hadn't really hit her until now.

'Oh, I'm so sorry,' whispered Hermione. She thought she heard a strange noise behind her, but couldn't turn to investigate because Ginny was now sobbing onto Hermione's shoulder. Perhaps Harry had come after Ginny.

Could Hermione ever love someone like that? Did she _already_ love someone like that? She and Ron had been best friends for years and she loved him ... but she loved Harry, too. They were both her best friends. Harry was like her brother. She'd always felt something more for Ron, something different ... but did she love him as anything more than a friend?

She liked him a lot. But _love_?

Suddenly, it seemed like such a difficult concept to grasp.

There was another noise behind Hermione. This time, Ginny also heard it. The girl calmed down slightly and gave Hermione a curious look. They turned around and watched as three figures in black hoods stepped out from the trees: Death Eaters.

They both got to their feet instantly. Hermione reached for her wand – it wasn't there. Damn it, she had decided that she didn't have a place to keep it, so she had left it in her room at The Burrow. She hadn't thought anything dangerous would happen!

Ginny gasped and took a small step back. Hermione couldn't think of a way out. Nobody knew where they were. Nobody, aside from Ron and Harry, had even known that they'd left the backyard.

They were alone, far away from the rest of the wedding guests, without wands. And there were Death Eaters surrounding them.

'Well, well, well ... it looks like these two aren't so tough without Potter here to protect them,' one of the hooded figures said. It had a female voice – Bellatrix Lestrange, Hermione knew.

'Which shall we kill first?' asked Lestrange.

Ginny stiffened beside Hermione.

'We must act under the Dark Lord's orders,' another one said. It was Lucius Malfoy. 'You know what we are here to do.'

'Yes, although I'm quite sure the Dark Lord would be rather pleased if we got the other brat out of the way, too,' Lestrange muttered. 'But fine. You there –' she pointed her wand at Ginny 'get over here.' Ginny didn't move. 'Don't make me curse you, girl. Get over here _now_.'

Ginny gave Hermione a fearful look and took a few steps forward. Hermione wanted to cry, to scream bloody murder until Harry came and saved them, but she couldn't. She was frozen in fear.

'Very good,' said Lestrange. She grabbed Ginny's arm roughly and pulled. Ginny stumbled forward and wound up at Lestrange's side, unusually pale with her face scared and concerned. Lestrange turned to Hermione again. 'Now ... what shall I do with this one? We must make sure she doesn't talk.' She pointed her wand in Hermione's face and said, _'Cruc—'_

'No!' the third Death Eater screamed, deflecting the spell with his wand. Hermione cringed and almost wished he hadn't stopped Lestrange from using the Cruciatus Curse. She didn't need _him _to do her any favours. She knew who the third Death Eater was. She knew that voice well enough. She had heard it far too many times for her liking.

It was Snape.

'We have our orders!' hissed Snape. 'We must only take the Weasley girl! Leave the Mudblood for one of the others!'

Take the Weasley girl?

They were going to take Ginny.

Hermione snapped out of her shocked state. 'No ... you can't take her ...'

'Silly girl,' Malfoy barked. 'We can do whatever we please. As you will soon find out, your side is outnumbered. You picked the wrong side, you filthy Mudblood. Not that our side would've ever taken you ...'

Hermione was suddenly aware of the shouts that were coming from far off in the distance – they were coming from The Burrow. There were more Death Eaters. They had attacked everyone at the wedding. They had attacked Ron.

'Hermione,' Ginny panted, wrestling against Lestrange's grip. 'Tell Harry that I –'

'_Silencio.'_

Ginny kept squirming. Her lips were still moving, but no sound was coming out anymore.

Hermione felt hot tears running down her cheeks, knowing that if she didn't think of something soon – that if Harry didn't come soon – Ginny would probably die.

'How touching,' Snape said, sounding disgusted. 'The Weasley wants to tell her little _boyfriend s_omething.'

'We need to go,' said Malfoy. He pointed his wand at Hermione. 'Be sure to tell Potter that my son and I look forward to seeing him soon. Say goodnight, Mudblood. _Stupefy!_'

Everything went black.

……………………………………………………………


	15. The Crisis

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Fifteen: The Crisis  
**……………………………………………………………

Ron stood up quickly and looked around. Beside him, Harry did the same thing. His mum had screamed. He wondered what could be the matter. Did something bad happen, or was she merely being overdramatic about losing one of her sons to marriage? But ...why would she _scream_?

And then he saw them: Death Eaters. There were tons of them. They were in the backyard of The Burrow, where Ron's family was! They were going to –

Hermione. Where was she?

He pulled his wand out of his robes as Fleur screamed.

Oh, this was terrible. This was worse than terrible. What were they going to do? Most of the people at the wedding weren't trained Aurors or anything of the sort. A good amount of them were still underage or too old and feeble to defend themselves. Death Eaters were ruthless. They would capture and torture a baby if they thought it would make even the slightest difference.

Ron turned in a circle and saw that there were Death Eaters in every direction. He could see Tonks fighting one of the biggest Death Eaters Ron had ever seen. Lupin was close by, fighting another one. A few other people around them were throwing hexes and jinxes at the black-robed intruders, but nothing was working. There were more screams by the second, coming from every direction.

Hermione had followed Ginny. She wasn't in the backyard anymore ...she was probably safe. She and Ginny were probably talking somewhere, completely unaware that this chaos was happening.

'Don't get killed,' Harry said in an almost threatening tone. He pulled out his wand and rushed toward one side of the madness. Ron took a deep breath and ran off in the other direction, to where the other Death Eaters were. He knew the drill. It was time to fight.

A Death Eater, having just been Stunned, fell in front of Ron's path. Another one came up and pointed his wand at Ron, but Ron was quicker. '_Stupefy_!' he yelled. He didn't wait to watch as the Death Eater fell.

'HELP!' someone was screaming.

He scanned the area and found the source of the terrified shrieks. A Death Eater was pointing their wand at his little cousin, Heather. This was crazy. Heather was only ten! Over the noise, he could hear the Death Eater's sick, booming laughter. What was that bastard going to do to her?

Bloody hell, Ian was there. He wasn't even defending his sister! He was standing a bit behind her with his hands out in front of him and a look of absolute horror on his face. Ron couldn't believe it. If that were Ginny, Ron would be hexing the Death Eater into next week, not standing there like an idiot. The Death Eater muttered, 'Silly girl. _Avada _–'

'_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS_!' yelled Ron, hitting the Death Eater in the back. His limbs snapped to his sides and he fell to the ground, stiff as a board. When Ron stepped over him, he couldn't resist giving the man a swift kick in the gut. Two more Death Eaters came at him. '_Expelliarmus_!'

It seemed almost as if every Death Eater in the backyard had the ability to split themselves in half. There were so many! There was no way the Order could fight them all. They were _everywhere_. How could Ron get his family to safety? Heather didn't know magic ...she didn't even have a wand yet! If it wasn't for the fact that Ian was shifting around nervously, Ron would've thought he had been put in a Body-Bind.

'Ian ...' Ron said quickly, 'take Heather and run.'

'I can help,' he said.

'Like you helped save your sister from almost getting killed?' asked Ron starkly.

More Death Eaters came out of nowhere and though most tore off in the direction Harry had gone, several were still making their way toward Ron.

'_Impedimenta_!'

'_Protego_,' Ron said quickly. 'Run!' Heather ran away but Ian stood there, frozen in fear, staring at Ron. 'Get to a safe place!' commanded Ron as he deflected a spell.

'_Crucio_.'

Ron dove to the ground and narrowly avoided the spell. 'DAMN IT,' he yelled at his cousin, 'JUST GO!'

'_Tarantallegra_,' one said, pointing at Ian, who was trying to run away. His legs began dancing and tapping, involuntarily bringing him closer to the awaiting Death Eaters.

'_Stupefy_.' Ron watched as the Death Eater fell to the floor. As he turned back to his cousin, he caught sight of Lupin. A Death Eater had snuck up behind him as he battled and was muttering something. '_Rictusempra_!' he screamed, a jet of silver light coming from the end of his wand. The Death Eater began laughing a high-pitched, girlish laugh and clutched her side. She sunk to her knees and dropped her wand. Lupin, who had finally managed to Stun his opponent, spun around.

'Thanks!' he yelled.

'_Ron_,' Ian said, sounding scared, panicked and slightly annoyed. 'Help me out here.'

'_Finite_,' he said dismissively. Ian's legs stopped moving and he stumbled forward slightly before steadying himself. 'Get going.'

'I'm staying! I want to fight!' Ian yelled stubbornly.

'You're going to get killed and –' he stopped, seeing that someone in black robes was running toward Ian, from behind him. '_Incarcerous_!'

The Death Eater stumbled, his legs now bound together by invisible rope, and he fell.

'_Diffinido_,' a male Death Eater muttered.

The one who had been bound by ropes was released and got to his feet again. He gripped his wand and yelled, '_Stupefy_!' Red sparks shot out at Ron.

'_Protego_!' said Ron, putting up a shield. He couldn't believe that this was happening. He was taking on Death Eaters left and right – without Harry around – and he was actually doing okay! He was vaguely aware of Ian running away to safety as he fired another spell.

'_Protego_,' one Death Eater said, deflecting the curse.

'Quit wasting your time with him!' another one, passing Ron, yelled. 'Get Potter while they get the girl!'

Immediately, the Death Eaters turned around and ran away. Ron's heart nearly stopped. They were all going to find Harry, so they could _all _fight him at the same time. Would Harry be okay? Where was his sister? What about Hermione? Was she hurt? Was she "the girl" they were going to "get"?

At this thought, anger bubbled inside of him and he gripped his wand. '_Stupefy_! _Stupefy_!' He chased after them, Stunning several as he passed. It seemed like for every person in that backyard, there were five Death Eaters. '_Incendio_.' The robes of a Death Eater caught on fire, and when he stopped running to put the flames out, Ron Stunned him.

He ran over to where Harry was fighting. Through a mess of black-robed Death Eaters, he could see bright red hair. Bill and Charlie were beside Harry, and Mr Weasley was there, too. The twins were hexing every Death Eater they could reach, giving a valiant attempt to join in the fight. Ron heard someone yelling, 'Weasley! Let's get the bloody hell out of here!'

Ron turned and found that the voice belonged to none other than the Minister of Magic. That bastard, thought Ron. What good was a Minister of Magic, someone who was supposed to _protect _the wizarding world from danger, if he was trying to flee from battle? There were Death Eaters all over the place, _attacking_, and all Scrimgeour cared about was getting as far away as possible. Ron was sure he wasn't even in a rush to get back so he could alert some Aurors and have them go help – he just wanted to leave so he wouldn't be killed.

Percy was beside Scrimgeour, but something seemed odd. Scrimgeour was gripping his arm, but Percy appeared to be fighting him. 'Let go of me! Sir!'

'Weasley,' Scrimgeour bellowed, 'what're you doing?' Percy wrenched himself away from the Minister and stared at him for a moment. 'If you go, you're out of the Ministry,' he threatened.

Percy squared his jaw and turned, hurrying toward the circle without a second thought. Scrimgeour Disapparated.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny was nowhere to be seen. That was all Harry knew.

He was being attacked by Death Eaters, all of which were shooting hexes and jinxes and Unforgivables at him, and he countered them, he fought them off, he avoided them, but his mind wasn't really there.

Ginny was gone.

'_Crucio_!'

Harry ducked behind a table, which received the blast and was blown to pieces. He held his wand tightly and looked around. He couldn't find Ginny anywhere. He didn't know if that was a good thing or a very, very bad thing.

'_Reducto_!' bellowed Harry. A few of the Death Eaters scurried behind the archway, which had been used to the wedding, and it met the same fate as the table. Everything around him seemed to be in ruins. Tables and chairs were in several pieces, as well as the altar. Harry felt certain this was not how Fleur had imagined her wedding day.

'_Incen—_'

'_Stupefy_!' someone yelled. The Death Eater, who had been pointing his wand at Harry, collapsed. Bill was standing behind him, panting slightly. He nodded at Harry and fired a series of jinxes at another band of Death Eaters.

Harry heard a noise behind him and spun around just in time to see a person cloaked in black robes point a wand at Harry and say, '_Imperio_.'

Any thought that had been running through his mind, any worry or doubt that plagued him, was instantly gone. Harry nearly forgot where he was, and although he could see the turmoil going on around him, he did not care about it.

_I should care_.

He saw Mrs Weasley. She was struggling to fight off two Death Eaters all by herself.

_That isn't right_...

Something inside of him stirred, even though there was a voice in his mind coaxing him, telling him he didn't care and didn't need to fight.

_I need to fight_.

You don't have to fight, the voice was telling him.

_But it's what I do_.

She screamed for help. Harry could hear her shrieks, over the madness, over the slight ringing that was in his ears. For a brief, terrifying moment, Harry could hear his own mother's cries. He could hear her pleading with Voldemort ...pleading not to kill Harry. He could see that bright flash of green light in his mind. He wouldn't let it happen again.

_I have to_.

Harry had felt like this before. He felt relieved of all care, but there was an intruder in his mind, and it was extremely disturbing. He wasn't supposed to feel like this. Feeling like this was bad. He didn't know why, but he remembered that much.

It's good, the intruder's voice said. You don't need to worry.

_It's not good_. _I need to_...

You don't need to do anything.

..._I need to fight_. _I need to help them_.

You don't care about the fight. You don't need to fight.

_I need to help Ginny._

The other voice disappeared from his head and Harry snapped out of his trancelike state.

'_Conjunctiva_,' he said, pointing his wand at the Death Eater. The Death Eater cast several spells, all of which missed Harry by a mile. The Conjunctivitis Curse was working, apparently, because Harry's opponent could no longer see what was happening. '_Stupefy_,' Harry bellowed, taking advantage of the moment.

Another Death Eater ran toward him, wand raised. '_Stupe_—'

'_Protego_!'

Harry wished he had tried harder in class last year. Maybe if he'd mastered non-verbal spells, he'd be able to fight and defend himself better.

When Harry looked back at Mrs Weasley, he was relieved to see that Kingsley Shacklebolt was taking care of one of the Death Eaters for her.

'_Reducto_!' yelled Charlie, who was fighting to Harry's right.

'_Stupefy_,' Mr Weasley said from Harry's left. '_Incarcerous_!'

Suddenly, they were surrounded. The twins were helping, and – Harry was so shocked that he nearly stopped fighting – Percy had joined in, too.

'_Locomotor_ _Mortis_.'

'_Cruc_—'

'_Stupefy_!'

'_Ennervate_!'

'_Silencio_!'

Everywhere Harry looked, there was a battle. Ian's dad was dueling with a large Death Eater; Fleur's father was up against two; Mason was standing in front of a frail-looking woman, blocking her from the oncoming spells and throwing out a few of his own.

_This was madness ...it wasn't going to end._

Harry felt a somewhat familiar tingling in the pit of his stomach and it spread throughout his body. His fingers itched and his head felt clear and hazy at the same time.

_Death Eaters were attacking in the backyard of The Burrow – the place Harry felt the safest, after Hogwarts ...Voldemort was probably going to show up soon. The Dementors were more than likely on their way._

He could feel the pressure building ...building up in his wrists, his palms, his fingertips. He closed his eyes. He could still see. He couldn't see faces, but he could see colours and he knew where everyone was and what was happening. It was almost better, almost _easier_, this way. It was simplistic and yet almost unfathomable.

_People were going to die._

The feeling was getting stronger, the intense heat was growing and growing and he felt like he was going to burst at any moment.

'Oh, _Percy_!' he heard Mrs Weasley cry. 'Percy! No, Percy!'

_This was his fault._

His scar burned and his insides were on fire. It had never felt like this before. It had never been this strong before.

_This was because of him._

He needed to scream. He needed to cry. He had to do something to release this ache inside. Something was there, something was about to happen. But he couldn't make it happen. He wasn't strong enough yet. He didn't think he'd ever be strong enough.

_Something was going to happen to Ron, to Hermione ...to Ginny._

Something inside of him snapped and he felt every muscle and nerve in his body tense for a moment. Then the tension was slipping away, leaving his body. It was draining out of him. There was a loud ringing in his ears, overpowering the sounds of battle. It took him a moment before he could open his eyes again, and when he did, he felt dizzy and suddenly weak.

'We've given them enough time,' a Death Eater wheezed. Harry looked around and saw quite a few Death Eaters on the ground. Most of them got up and then Apparated away. A few were left, passed out or bound by ropes and other spells.

Percy was lying flat on his back, Mrs Weasley leaning over him.

Ron rushed over to Harry, his eyes wide and his face reflecting the fear Harry felt bubbling inside. 'You did it again! How did –?'

But Harry wasn't listening. He thought about the Death Eaters, about the attacks. Given who enough time?

Something clicked. 'C'mon,' he whispered, taking off. He ran full speed in the direction Ginny and Hermione had gone before everything blew up. He wasn't sure if Ron was behind him, or if he was still standing there in shock. He didn't care.

Harry came to the pond and stopped dead in his tracks. Hermione was on the ground, passed out. What had they done to her?

He heard Ron curse loudly and knew for certain that his friend had followed. They rushed over to her and Ron got to his knees. 'Hermione? Can you hear me?' She didn't respond. He stood up. 'Bloody hell, whoever did this might still be around here somewhere. I'm going to kill them.' He marched into the trees and looked around.

'They're gone, Ron,' Harry said evenly. '_Ennervate_,' he muttered. 'Hermione?' Hermione began to stir. 'Where's Ginny?'

Ron rushed out of the woods and Hermione sat up.

'Oh ...' she whispered, looking around, 'they ..._oh_, Harry, they took her.'

'What?' Ron demanded. 'Who did?'

Hermione sniffed. 'Snape and –'

Harry's insides clenched and he gritted his teeth. Ginny was gone. Snape had taken her. Why? What did they need with Ginny? Wouldn't they have wanted to take Hermione or Ron instead? Why not just go after Harry and get it over with?

This was the final straw. There was no more playing around anymore.

'Wait here.'

'Where are you going?' asked Hermione.

'_Wait here_!' Harry repeated.

'Harry,' cried Hermione. '_Where are you going_?'

'I'm going to find Ginny,' he said simply. 'And then, I'm going to find Snape, so I can murder him.'

……………………………………………………………

'Harry!' yelled Hermione, but it was of no use. Harry was gone.

'Where d'you think he's gone?' asked Ron.

Hermione shook her head. 'I – I don't know.' She got up and Ron rushed to her side. 'I'm fine,' she said. Ron gave her a strange look and shook his head. 'Okay, I'm not _fine_. But I'm not hurt. Let's get back to your house ...is everyone okay there?'

'Are you sure you're okay?' Ron asked, putting his arm around her and helping her walk.

'_Yes_,' she said firmly, but didn't refuse his assistance. 'I hope Ginny –'

'She'll be okay,' Ron insisted, sounding only slightly doubtful. 'Harry ...Harry will get her back.'

When they got back to The Burrow, Tonks was levitating Percy into the house and Mrs Weasley was following closely behind, sobbing. Hermione's chest constricted. If she had just kept her wand with her, she could've defended herself and Ginny, and none of this would have happened. Fleur was holding Bill tightly and he was whispering in her ear, trying to calm her.

'Is Percy okay?' Ron asked when he and Hermione ran into the house after them.

'He was hit with a few Stunners,' said a witch Hermione didn't recognize. 'But he's young. If we let him rest, he should be okay by later on tonight.'

'How – how could this have h-happened?' cried Mrs Weasley. 'Why would – _Hermione_! Oh, dear, are you alright?'

Did she look that rough? 'Yes, I'm okay, Mrs Weasley. But – but ...' she couldn't say it. How could she tell Mrs Weasley that her daughter was taken?

'Ginny's gone,' Ron whispered. 'And Harry went after her.'

Mrs Weasley began sobbing again and Mr Weasley put his arms around her. Bill, Charlie and the twins stiffened.

'I didn't have my wand ...' Hermione told them, shaking her head and leaning against Ron. This was her fault. They were going to hate her for not defending Ginny, for not being able to save her. They were going to ask her to leave and never come back. 'Neither did Ginny. We couldn't fight them. I'm so sorry, really, I ...'

'They didn't hurt you, did they?' Lupin asked. Hermione shook her head.

'What about Ginny? Is she...?' Mr Weasley's voice cracked and he let his question trail off.

'They didn't do anything to her when they attacked,' said Hermione. 'I don't know why they wanted her.'

'We have to go find Ginny!' Fred declared.

'We need to wait until Harry gets back,' Tonks said calmly.

'Harry went off to find her!' cried Hermione. 'Don't you get it? He might _not _come back!'

'Regardless,' Lupin said seriously, 'we can't go rushing out after him. We don't know where he or Ginny are. We have to stay here.'

No matter how badly they all wanted to ignore them, everyone knew that Lupin and Tonks were right. They _couldn't _do anything. Not without possibly ending up dead. They couldn't help Ginny if they were dead. And Mrs Weasley would lose it if another one of her kids was out there, in danger.

Ron looked around. 'Where is everyone?'

'They've all Apparated far away from here,' muttered George.

'Is Heather okay?' asked Ron.

'Yeah,' said Fred. 'She wanted to see you but her mum made her go home.'

She wanted to see Ron? Who _was _she?

'Did you really save her?' Charlie asked.

Ron shrugged. 'I ...I guess.'

'That's so bloody sick,' Tonks said disgustedly. 'Attempting to kill an innocent, defenseless little girl like that ...'

'Heather is Ian's sister,' Ron explained, looking down at Hermione.

'She's only ten,' Bill said, sounding disgusted. 'And a Death Eater would've killed her if Ron hadn't stopped him.'

A Death Eater was prepared to kill a ten year old girl? Ron had saved her? Merlin, what had gone on while Hermione and Ginny were at the pond? The Dark Mark wasn't over The Burrow, Hermione realized thankfully. Nobody had been killed – yet.

Ginny could be a casualty.

'Hermione should be checked out by a Healer,' said Mr Weasley.

Hermione didn't want to leave. She didn't want Ron to let go of her. 'It's okay,' she said quickly. Mr Weasley gave her a strange look. 'Honestly, Mr Weasley, that isn't necessary. Nothing happened to me at all.' She didn't tell him that she had been Stunned. Surprisingly, neither did Ron. He just held her tightly and didn't let go until Harry came back.

……………………………………………………………

Harry looked around. One of the frames in his glasses had been broken, making it blurry and nearly impossible for him to see out of his left eye, but even so, he could tell that he was in Hogsmeade. How he had managed to Apparate there without Splinching himself, he'd never know. But he had more important things to worry about. He weaved in and out of the crowd, making his way toward Hogwarts. He was running full force; his legs were burning and he had a stitch in his side, but he paid his body no attention. He pulled out his wand and magically unlocked the gates, entering the grounds of Hogwarts. He passed Hagrid's Hut and the Quidditch Pitch and – _finally _– he came to the castle.

He gave himself no time to think back to the night Dumbledore was killed. He did not bother looking up at the sky, so to remember the sight of the Dark Mark hovering above his beloved school. He ran threw the doors and was suddenly very aware that he had no idea where McGonagall would be. Would she be in Dumbledore's office, or perhaps her old one?

He took off down a corridor and up the stairs, prepared to run through the entire bloody castle if need be.

'Professor McGonagall!' he yelled. 'PROFESSOR!'

'Potter?'

Harry spun around and found Professor McGonagall staring at him as if he had two heads.

'P-Professor,' he panted, resting his hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.

'Why are you here?'

'It – it's Ginny,' he said breathlessly. 'They took her and –'

'Who took her?' McGonagall asked.

'The – the Death Eaters,' he wheezed. 'And I need to go after her! But you have to – you have to help me.' He inhaled huge gulps of air, but nothing was working. He couldn't breathe. But Ginny needed him. He would breathe later.

'Let's go to my office,' she said calmly. 'We can discuss this there.'

'There's no ...time.'

'There is –'

'There isn't any bloody time! Either we get her now, or we never do!'

Professor McGonagall frowned but said nothing. She turned around and began walking in the direction of her old office. Harry stared at her for a moment and felt his blood boil. Ginny could be _dying _and McGonagall wanted to go up to her office and have a nice little tea party?

'Are you – are you kidding me?' he asked, reluctantly following her and still panting heavily. 'We have to take action!'

'We cannot do anything yet,' McGonagall said over her shoulder, not slowing her strides. 'First, we will need to call an emergency Order meeting and –'

'No!' Harry yelled. 'That will take too long! I'm in charge, you've said it yourself. And I'm going to make the decisions.'

McGonagall shook her head. 'I am aware of your relationship with Miss Weasley, but –'

'That's _not _what this is about!' exclaimed Harry. It didn't matter that he was involved with her! If it had been Ron or Hermione, he'd be acting in exactly the same way. Someone had been taken by Death Eaters and it didn't matter if it was Ginny or a stranger; they would still need rescuing. They would still needed help, and Harry wasn't about to deny anyone that.

'Precisely,' said McGonagall, turning around to stare at him. 'And that is why your personal feelings should be left out of this.'

Harry glared at her. How could she be acting so calmly? Did he not explain the situation correctly? Did she not understand that Death Eaters had taken Ginny and were doing who-knows-what to her?

'They're going to torture her! If we don't do something soon ...' he trailed off, not wanting to think about the end of that sentence. 'We need to go! We – we need to get her back!'

McGonagall sighed. 'We don't know where she is. We cannot go blindly running into danger. It is not safe.'

'I'm going! It's my fault she's been taken and I'll get her back, even if I have to do it alone,' Harry said defiantly.

'You may have been put in charge of the Horcrux missions,' McGonagall said sternly, 'but that is the extent of your power. I forbid you to make another move without my permission.'

'And if I do?'

'Then you will be kicked out of the Order.' She watched Harry expectantly, challenging him to disobey her direct order.

'Then it's a good thing that I care more about Ginny than I do your bloody Order,' he said bluntly.

'Potter, you may fancy this girl but –'

'I LOVE HER AND I AM NOT GOING TO STAND AROUND WHILE THOSE BASTARDS HURT HER!'

He thought he saw the makings of a smile form on her face before she looked down and coughed. 'I'm sorry, but I have no choice but to remove you from the Order.'

Harry shrugged, not feeling even the slightest pang of remorse. 'That's fine.'

McGonagall cleared her throat. 'You're still going after her, aren't you?' she asked softly.

'I have to,' said Harry.

She nodded. 'Very well,' she said. 'I can understand your concern, but if you are going to try and save Miss Weasley, there can be no room for error.' Harry nodded. What was she going to say next? 'Let's go.'

'Where are we going, Professor?'

'We are going back to The Burrow. I'm quite certain there are more than a few people worried about you over there.'

Harry sighed and shifted anxiously on his feet. He could either go with her, or he could stand around arguing for another ten minutes – ten minutes that Ginny might not have to spare. 'Okay,' he agreed. 'We have to hurry, though.'

'We will.'

……………………………………………………………

**The response I got for the last chapter was huge and completely insane. Thanks to all those who read, those who reviewed, and those who didn't come murder me in my sleep (though you wanted to!)**


	16. Stuck

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Chapter Sixteen: Stuck  
**……………………………………………………………

Harry was back, and he had Professor McGonagall with him.

The kitchen, which had once contained a rather large group of people, now held only Ron, Hermione, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley and Moody. Percy was in another room, still unconscious. Bill had convinced Fleur to Floo back to her parents' house and be with her family for a while, whilst everything was sorted out. The woman who tended to Percy had left after giving him a potion and giving Mrs Weasley instructions on what to do if he didn't wake up soon. Other wedding guests, who had been hiding during the attack and ha appeared randomly into the kitchen during the past forty minutes, had left as quickly as they could.

'Is everyone okay?' McGonagall asked, looking around the room.

They all murmured a "yes", but Ron found that he could only nod. Death Eaters had taken his sister. They had come very close to taking Hermione. Why had this happened? It was Bill's wedding! It was supposed to be a day of fun and family and togetherness. And now Ginny was gone, quite a few people were sporting injuries from the duel with the Death Eaters, and Ron couldn't do anything about it. He had never felt so helpless in his life. He couldn't save his own sister. This wasn't like his second year, when she was pulled into the Chamber of Secrets. He had no idea where she was, or even _why _she had been taken. Why her? Why didn't they try to take Hermione, who had been with Ginny, or someone else at the wedding? Harry was there, out in the open, but they didn't even attempt to capture him. Why, specifically, did they want Ginny?

'We have to get to Grimmauld Place,' Harry said quickly. His eyes met Ron's and Ron saw something in his friend's eyes that shocked him: fear. Harry had faced Voldemort, Dementors, Death Eaters, countless obstacles in the Triwizard Tournament, the deaths of both Sirius and Dumbledore, the search for Horcruxes, and many other things, and he had never been anything short of magnificent. He had always been brave and strong. But now, standing in the kitchen of The Burrow with a few cuts and broken glasses, he looked terrified. 'I'm leaving as soon as possible, and if any of you want to come along, you'll need to be organized.'

Nobody protested. Instead, they all scrambled toward the fireplace, about to Floo to Headquarters and set up a rescue mission for Ginny.

'Wait,' Hermione said. 'My parents are supposed to be arriving soon ... do you think they'll be okay?'

'I'll stay behind. Someone should stay with P-Percy, anyway,' said Mrs Weasley. 'When your parents arrive, Hermione, I'll have them join you at Headquarters.'

'Okay, Molly, dear,' said Mr Weasley. He, for once, did not appear excited at the prospect of being with Muggles. In fact, he wore an expression similar to Harry's.

'Very well,' said McGonagall. 'The rest of you, let's move. We have a lot of work to do.'

They arrived to the cold, empty Grimmauld Place and Harry immediately began grilling Hermione.

'What happened?' he asked eagerly. Ron stayed by her side as his dad, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, McGonagall, Kingsley, Lupin, Tonks, Moody and Harry all surrounded her. 'Who took her? Was it just Snape, or –?'

'Lucius Malfoy,' Hermione said quietly.

'Was there anyone else?'

'Bellatrix Lestrange was there, too,' said Hermione. 'She ... well, she was awful.' Ron's blood boiled and he silently vowed to murder that woman. She deserved death almost as much as Voldemort did. Ron shuddered at the idea of Bellatrix Lestrange cornering Hermione and his sister at their pond and forced himself to listen to the conversation that was still going on around him.

'Why would they take Ginny?' Bill demanded.

'Yeah,' said Charlie. 'I mean, no offense, Hermione, but you were there as well. They could've taken both of you, but they didn't. There has to be a reason.' Hermione nodded.

'Have you been using your Occlumency, Potter?' asked McGonagall.

Harry appeared puzzled for a moment before his eyes widened and he cursed. 'No! Dumbledore said that Voldemort was blocking me out so I didn't think ...' he cursed again and slammed his fist against the wall. 'He must have gone poking around in my head when I wasn't aware of it.'

'Why does that matter?' asked Charlie.

'Well,' said Hermione, 'Harry and Ginny, um, dated briefly at Hogwarts.' Ron would've been amused at the glances that his uneducated brothers cast at Harry if they had been under different circumstances. But, as it was, every second was precious and there was no excuse for wasting time. They had a crisis to deal with.

'And Voldemort stopped blocking me out long enough to figure out that she's what I care about most,' Harry growled. 'That son of a –'

'Is there any other possible explanation?' Kingsley asked.

'_No_,' Harry said angrily. 'I'm a bloody _idiot _and because of me, because of my carelessness, Ginny's going to get –'

'Ginny's not "going to get" anything,' Ron said firmly. He didn't want to hear the end of Harry's sentence. If he gave himself time to think about it, Ron was sure the many different scenarios would drive him mad. Were they going to kill his sister? Why else did You-Know-Who take prisoners? It certainly wasn't to have nice little tea parties with them.

'And it isn't your fault,' Hermione told him. 'The entire school knew about you and Ginny. Snape probably heard about it and passed the information along to Voldemort.'

'What happened when they took her?' asked Harry, ignoring Hermione's attempts to relieve him from the responsibility of putting Ginny in danger.

'I ...' Hermione closed her eyes, as if trying to remember exactly what happened, and Ron was tempted to tell her it was okay if she didn't want to talk about it. She had just been through a traumatic experience, and reliving it probably wasn't the best idea. But they needed information and if that meant Hermione had to recount her story, she would have to do it. They needed details, in order to get to Ginny.

'_Think_,' Harry prodded.

'She's _trying_,' Ron snapped. Harry was stressed, Ron understood that. He was stressed, too. Ginny was his sister and he was dying to get out there and rescue her, but he wasn't snapping at everyone – especially Hermione, who had already been through enough.

'When they got there ... Lestrange made a comment about ... about killing us both,' Hermione said, her eyes still closed. 'Then, she tried to ... use the Cruciatus Curse on me, but Snape and Malfoy kept reminding her that they were only supposed to take Ginny away, and do nothing else. They said they had to follow Voldemort's orders.'

'Why would they want Ginny?' Ron asked. 'Why would You-Know-Who's orders be to take _her_?'

Harry slumped against the wall and cursed yet again. 'Why do you think, Ron? They took her because Voldemort figured I'd come after her. Voldemort tapped into my mind and he knew that if he wanted to lure me out into the open, taking Ginny would be his best bet.' He looked at McGonagall and nodded. 'And he was right. I'm going.'

'You don't –'

'I don't know where to go,' said Harry. 'So you've all said. But this is Voldemort we're talking about. I don't need to go anywhere. He'll find me himself.'

'Harry,' said Lupin, 'don't do anything you'll regret later.'

'I won't regret going after her,' argued Harry.

Lupin held up his hands. 'I never said you would,' he said. 'But you won't be able to save her just yet. We need to organize. Give us a little time to think, _please_. If you rush out, you'll only end up getting hurt. That can't help Ginny at all.'

Ron had never seen his friend appear so torn. Harry wanted to go off and fight. It was what he did. Harry would go looking for trouble before it had the chance to find him. As long as Ron had known him, Harry had never been one to sit on the sidelines. He was always in the middle of everything, fighting and living dangerously, head-deep in trouble.

But even though this was all very true (and though Ron didn't like to admit it to himself), Harry also cared a great deal about Ginny. Harry had broken up with her at Dumbledore's funeral, yes, but that didn't mean he didn't care. If anything, that showed just _how much _he cared. If Ron had been in his situation, he wouldn't have been able to do it. Actually _having _Hermione and intentionally ending things with her would be unthinkable, even if it was for her own safety. But, in the end, it hadn't benefited Ginny. She was still a bigger target than even Ron or Hermione, it seemed.

'I – I know, but –'

'No buts, Harry,' Mr Weasley said stiffly. 'We all want to run out and get her, but it would be a huge risk to try anything now.'

'Order members,' McGonagall said, breaking the thick silence that had fallen over the room, 'follow me. We need to plan a rescue mission.' When Harry did not move, Ron gave him a strange look but said nothing. Everyone quickly filed out of the room, leaving Ron, Harry and Hermione alone.

In all the years Ron had known Harry and Hermione, after everything they had been through together; Ron had never been more uncomfortable around them than he was right now. This even topped the first time he met Harry, when he was so star struck that he had no idea what to say or do. Even when he and Hermione weren't speaking because of one stupid fight or another, there had been less tension than there was now.

……………………………………………………………

'What's taking them so long?' Harry demanded as he paced around the room. The past five minutes had been the longest of Hermione's life. The sounds of Harry's feet against the floor and the ticking of the clock overhead were slowly driving her insane. The creaking of Ron's chair as he shifted positions and the tapping of his foot as he impatiently waited for the Order members to return to the kitchen made her wish for the deafening silence to return, the one that had made her uncomfortable but would now only make her calm and able to think more rationally than she was currently able to.

'Calm down,' Hermione said softly. Harry had never been good at waiting, at not being in the middle of action, and Hermione knew that. In fact, his tendency to jump the gun had been quite a detriment in the past – at the Department of Mysteries, specifically.

That was exactly why it was important for Harry to keep his emotions in check. If he was to grow too impatient, too angry, too worried ... Hermione didn't want to think about what the repercussions would be – for Ginny, if no one else.

But it was good, in some strange, horrible way, that Ginny was the one who had been taken. Hermione knew that Harry loved her and Ron, but it was _Ginny _who meant the most to him, and he would take extra caution in rescuing her. On the flip side, however, it made him extra anxious to get out there and attempt a rescue mission. Hermione knew it wouldn't be long before his control snapped.

'I can't just _calm down_,' snapped Harry. 'What do you want me to do, Hermione? Pretend that Ginny's gone off to a friend's house and will be back in the morning? Do you want me to act like everything is fine and dandy and that it isn't my fault that she might be –'

'It _isn't _you fault!' cried Hermione, unable to keep her own emotions in check any longer.

'Bullocks,' Harry muttered.

Beside Hermione, Ron sighed heavily. 'Bloody hell, would you shut up? Ginny's gone, but sitting here snapping at your friends isn't going to get her back! And Hermione's right, it isn't you fault ... why do you always have to shoulder the burden for every bloody thing that happens?' he asked, his voice loud and firm. 'Merlin, you broke up with her because you thought it would keep her safe ... you did all you could.'

'No, I didn't!' yelled Harry. His face was going red and Hermione didn't like the look in his eyes one bit. This was going to be trouble, she was sure of it. 'I didn't do anything other than break up with her and then fool around with her behind everyone's backs! And do you know why, Ron? Because I'm a git! And it should have been me, not her! Not her! Never her.'

Ron stood up, his face suddenly red, and Hermione had to think for a moment before connecting the dots on what Harry had just said.

'You did _what _with my sister?'

Now it was Ron's turn to be told to calm down.

'How could you do that?' Ron demanded taking a step toward him. 'You said you cared about her ... and you still went ahead and turned her into your own personal slag?'

'_Shut_ _up_, Ron,' Hermione hissed. 'I know that you must be surprised to find out, but this isn't the time!'

Ron whirled around to face her and gave her a curious look. 'You knew?' Ron asked, staring incredulously at Hermione. 'You knew what he was doing to my sister, and you didn't tell me?'

Hermione didn't know what to say. She had inadvertently admitted to knowing that Harry and Ginny had been sneaking around ... and Ron was going to hate her now.

She had never seen Ron look angrier than he did at that moment. Cursing, he balled up his hands, and after sharply pulling back his right arm, connected his fist with Harry's jaw. Harry's head jerked to the side and he stumbled back, but didn't retaliate. Ron punched him again.

'STOP IT!' yelled Hermione. 'Stop hitting him!'

Ron ignored her and hit him again. Harry stumbled against the wall and Ron stopped. Harry didn't even seem fazed. Hermione wasn't even sure he knew he'd just been hit. His eyes were glazed over and he dropped his gaze to the floor, ignoring Ron completely.

'Damn it, fight back!' growled Ron. His face was bright red and he was gritting his teeth. He needed to let out his emotions through physical aggression, a request Hermione was thankful to see Harry wasn't complying to.

Harry shook his head but said nothing. Hermione felt tears sting her eyes as she watched her friend. 'She was – I thought we could hide it ... I thought nobody would know, but ...'

'Oh, Harry, no,' said Hermione.

'There's nobody to blame but me,' he said. He looked at Ron intently. 'I have to go. I can't stay here any longer. I – I need to go.'

'She's my sister!' cried Ron. 'She's my _sister_. I want to go after her more than anything else, but it would be a suicide mission, and you know that!'

'I don't bloody care!' Harry bellowed. 'Don't you get it? They're going to hurt her! They're going to torture her ... they – they're going to use the Cruciatus Curse on her.' Ron paled. 'Yeah, you think that's bad, do you? Have you ever had it used on you?' Ron shook his head slowly. He looked frightened beyond his wits, like a small child. 'Your whole body feels like it's on fire,' explained Harry, his voice low and dangerous, 'and you can't see anything because you're blinded by the pain, and you can't hear anything but your own screams ... and it just keeps burning and you just keep screaming. It feels like ... it feels like everything bad and evil in the world, intensified by about a billion percent. It isn't like the Imperius, either. You can't throw off the Cruciatus. You get to the point that you _pray _for death, because nothing is worse than the pain.'

Hermione shivered. She'd read about the curse and its effects. She'd even seen it used on a spider by Barty Crouch Jr. when he impersonated Moody. But she'd never heard someone who'd been subjected to it actually talk about it. She'd never heard Harry describe it before. She'd practically forgotten he'd experienced it. 'They – they won't really do that to her, w-will they?' she asked.

Harry turned to regard her, his stare cold and worried. 'They might, if we give them the chance,' he said seriously. 'That's why I have to find her. _Now_.'

'You can't! You'll get yourself killed. You don't have a plan. This isn't a game, Harry; you need to know what you're getting yourself into.'

'Hermione's right,' agreed Ron. 'This is one thing we need to let the Order members take charge of. I don't want to sit around here any more than you do, but there's nothing else we can do right now.'

'Yes, there is,' Harry protested. He winced and lightly rubbed his jaw, which was already swelling. Ron looked down and mumbled an apology. Harry shrugged and Hermione noticed his eyes were sparkling with determination and a sort of recklessness. 'There's something I can do – something I need to do – and it's the only way to get her back. I'm doing it.'

'What?' questioned Hermione.

'It's obvious as to why they took Ginny, wouldn't you agree?' Hermione shrugged and Ron gave a strange head movement. They didn't want to point fingers, but it _was _rather obvious that they took her because of Harry. 'They took her because they knew that I'd come for her and they want me to –'

'They won't kill her if they need her. Isn't that a good thing?' asked Ron.

'In some ways, no,' Harry said. He looked like it pained him to say the words, but he knew them to be true. 'They'll torture her until they can get her to talk. They want her alive, but that doesn't mean they won't have a little "fun" with her. They want information about me, about the Horcruxes ... about everything. And I know Ginny. She _won't _talk. They'll keep cursing her until ... until she's like the Longbottoms.' Ron gasped and Hermione felt hot tears roll down her cheeks again. 'Unless I act quickly. I can still save her. There's still some time.'

'We're coming with you!' Hermione said instantly. It seemed like the logical response. She and Ron always followed Harry. Whether it was to go after the Philosopher's Stone or to the Department of Mysteries to potentially rescue Sirius, they were always there, by his side. Hadn't they agreed, at Dumbledore's funeral, that they'd be with him every step of the way? Rushing out to get Ginny actually didn't sound too bad. In fact, it seemed exactly like something the three of them would do. The adults were still in the Order meeting. They could slip away and nobody would even notice.

Harry shook his head and narrowed his eyes. She suddenly knew better than to argue. 'No, you're not. It's too dangerous and –'

'SHE'S MY SISTER!' Ron yelled for the millionth time. 'I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not! You can't stop me!'

'SHE'S THERE BECAUSE OF ME!' shouted Harry. Nobody said anything for a moment. Hermione couldn't help but notice that neither she nor Ron disagreed, though she was sure it wasn't intentional. She was too shocked by everything that happened to be able to think rationally.

It was easy to imagine going out, finding Ginny, and bringing her back safe. In Hermione's mind, they encountered no obstacles, no troubles – everyone made it through, just as they had in the past. But this wasn't the same as it was in their first year, when they stopped the troll or faced the three-headed dog. One wrong move and Ginny would die. Harry paced the room.

'What are you saying?' Hermione asked worriedly.

'I'm saying that the Death Eaters took her, and they're going to hurt her. I – I don't even want to _think _about what they might do ...'

'Get on with it,' Ron said impatiently.

'You're family is suffering because of me.'

'_Harry _–'

'They're only using her to lure me in, to draw me out so Voldemort can have me. She's in danger because they want _me_. I'll give them what they want. I'll give them a trade. They give us Ginny ... and I'll surrender myself.'

Harry would surrender himself?

If there had been a doubt in Hermione's mind that Harry loved Ginny, it was squashed by his last statement. Harry was willing to sacrifice himself for Ginny, and while Hermione as fairly certain that he'd be noble and do that for just about anyone, there was a look in his eyes that told her he not only felt he _had _to do it, but that he _wanted _to, as well.

Harry was dead serious about this.

'Don't even think about it!' shrieked Hermione. 'You can't do that! They'll kill you! Voldemort will kill you!'

'Dumbledore once told me that one of Voldemort's weaknesses is his fear of death. Voldemort believes that there's nothing worse than death, but he's wrong.'

'Worse than death ... what does that mean? What could be worse?' asked Ron.

'Watching everyone that you love die,' said Harry. 'Living, all the while knowing that everyone you care about died because of you, died to help you. That's worse.' Harry turned to Hermione. 'You have to think ... I need to know ... did Snape say anything else?'

'No,' said Hermione. She thought back to the fiasco at the pond and remembered something. 'But right when Ginny got taken,' she said, casting a worried glance at Ron, 'she said to tell you that, um, she –'

Harry slammed his fist on the table and she stopped, knowing that he understood what she was about to say. Ginny loved him. The Silencing Charm had prevented Ginny from actually giving her the full message, but she would bet her life that was what Ginny had intended to say.

'PROFESSOR!' Harry yelled.

McGonagall rushed into the kitchen an instant later. 'We're doing all we can, Potter,' she said wearily.

'Well it's not enough!' he argued. 'We have to do something _now_. I'm going.' He pulled his wand from his pocket and stepped around Ron.

'You can't do that,' Lupin said softly, appearing behind McGonagall.

'What else happened?' Harry asked Hermione. 'Did any of the Death Eaters say anything else important?'

Hermione thought back. 'I – no,' she said. 'But Malfoy gave me a message to give to you. He said that he and his son are looking forward to seeing you soon.'

Harry furrowed his brow and bit his lip. After a moment, he cursed loudly and turned back to McGonagall. 'That bloody bastard! I know where they are.'

'Where?'

'They're at the Malfoy place.'

……………………………………………………………


	17. The Fear

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Seventeen: The Fear  
**……………………………………………………………

'Malfoy Manor?' asked McGonagall.

'Why would they be there?' asked Ron.

'Why else would Lucius Malfoy want Hermione to tell me that? He and his son are looking forward to seeing me soon ...? It makes sense,' said Harry. 'It explains why he didn't want anyone to hurt Hermione, too. They needed to make sure I got the message.'

'But ...' Hermione said, furrowing her brow. 'It does make sense.'

'Is there any _spell_ that we could do? You know,' Harry said, 'to know for certain if she's there?'

Ron cleared his throat. 'Can't you use your – your wandless magic, or something?' he asked.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes at Harry. '"Wandless magic"? What is he talking about?' she demanded.

'I, er ... it happened _once_,' Harry justified. 'When we went to Romania, I sort of did something with my hands. But it was nothing, really.'

'That's not true!' said Ron. 'It wasn't "nothing", it was wicked! You did it more than once when we were in Romania, y'know. And you did it in the backyard when the Death Eaters attacked.'

Harry's eyes widened. He had done it in the backyard? He didn't even know! Why didn't he know when he was doing it? He couldn't figure it out. But now that he thought about it, he _did _remember feeling a bit strange. At the time, he had assumed it was because he had just thrown off the Imperius Curse.

This was bloody confusing. Why couldn't he control it? It was hardly an asset if he couldn't even manage his new "power".

McGonagall folded her arms and gave him a stern look. 'Why was I not informed of this?' Harry shot Hermione a desperate look, hoping she'd come up with a brilliant excuse, as she always did. She shrugged and looked at Ron, who also shrugged. 'We will discuss this later, Potter.'

Harry nodded. 'Yes, Professor,' he said. He looked around the room again. 'But is there anything we can do?'

Kingsley nodded absentmindedly. 'There is one spell that Aurors are taught ... it's called the Wandering Spell. It's effective, but perhaps it isn't appropriate for this situation. There is a chance that –'

'It doesn't matter,' Harry urged. 'If there's a chance that we can find Ginny by doing the spell, we have to do it.'

Kingsley and McGonagall exchanged looks. 'Minerva?' asked Kingsley. 'What do you think?'

McGonagall cleared her throat and nodded. 'I think it is our duty to do all we can to retrieve Miss Weasley.'

'But who will do it?' asked Tonks. 'It's highly dangerous.' Harry wanted to volunteer himself, but he knew that Professor McGonagall wouldn't allow him to. She wouldn't trust him, especially after he hadn't told her about the wandless magic. But really, was it that big of a deal?

He had no bloody idea what the spell would do, but it didn't really matter. This was Ginny. Harry was beginning to think that there wasn't _anything _he wouldn't do to save her. Especially since this was his fault. He had done this to her, after all.

They were taking Ginny to use her as bait for Harry. Ginny, by herself, held no allure for the Death Eaters. What drew them to her was the fact that Harry cared about her, the fact that she was his greatest weakness.

They wouldn't let her die – not yet, anyway. They needed her too much. And if they could get there in time ... well, maybe nothing bad would have to happen to her at all.

Harry's chest constricted when he imagined Ginny being tortured. A part of him wished she would have the sense to cooperate, wished she would tell them whatever they asked – his safety be damned.

What, exactly, would they do to her? Surely they wouldn't –

No. He wouldn't let himself think about that. They wouldn't! It was too disgusting to even think about. They wouldn't do it to her. He would never let them.

She was a "blood traitor", a "Mudblood lover" in their eyes. They wouldn't touch her. Would they? She was shockingly beautiful. And Death Eaters weren't exactly upstanding people. They'd ... _do that _... to her, if they were ordered to, if they thought it would make her crack. If it had been Hermione who had been captured, Harry wouldn't have to worry. No matter how pretty she was, she was considered "impure". But Ginny ... Ginny was a pureblood, when you got right down to it. It was a possibility.

So why were they all standing around? Why hadn't someone volunteered to do the spell already? They had to get to her soon! Every second was precious. Especially now that the idea of ... _that _... was in Harry's mind.

'Potter should do it,' McGonagall said after a moment. Harry jumped slightly at the mention of his name, having been wrapped up in his thoughts. 'That is, if he feels he is capable.'

'I'm more than capable,' Harry said instantly, though he still had no clue of what he would have to do.

'What will he have to do, Professor?' Hermione asked, as if reading his thoughts.

McGonagall took a deep breath. 'The spell is not a very common one. It is normally used under different circumstances, but it is our only option, I am afraid. It can be highly dangerous if not performed correctly. Also, there are a few very important things that must be taken into consideration before –'

Just then, Mrs Weasley, along with Mr and Mrs Granger (both looking exceptionally frazzled) and Percy, came through the fireplace.

Mrs Weasley's eyes swept over everyone and came to rest on Harry. She stared at him for a moment. Hermione's parents went over to her and her mother was about to wrap her in a hug when Mrs Weasley spoke.

'Oh, Harry! What happened?' Mrs Weasley cried. Harry stared at her for a moment, having no idea what she was talking about. What was wrong with him? He opened his mouth to reply and felt a flare of pain shoot through his jaw. Oh, right. Ron had hit him. Not that he hadn't deserved it, or anything. His eyes must have traveled over to Ron, who was now staring pointedly at his shoes, because Mrs Weasley gasped and planted her hands on her hips. 'Ronald Weasley, did you do this to him? What were you _thinking_?'

Hermione's parents finally exchanged a proper hello with their daughter, all the while watching everyone with nervous eyes. 'Do you see the type of environment she's been surrounded by?' Harry heard Hermione's mum muttered to her father. 'I was under the impression that she would be kept _safe _here.'

He frowned and hoped that the Grangers didn't think the Weasleys were a bunch of barbarians. Did they think that The Burrow was a hostile environment? The reason they were even here, at Grimmauld Place, was because Hermione had been "mysteriously" injured while staying at The Burrow and they wanted to bring her back to the Muggle world.

Ron glanced up at Mrs Weasley. 'Mum, I –'

'Let's get on with this,' Harry said suddenly. 'The spell, Professor. How is it done? What is it?'

'It is a Wandering Spell,' McGonagall said. 'My knowledge on this particular enchantment is limited.' She looked expectantly at Kingsley. 'Perhaps you would be willing to explain it?'

Kingsley nodded. 'Well, Tonks wasn't lying when she said this would be dangerous. The history of the Wandering Spell is rather complicated. You – the Wanderer – will be put under a sort of self-induced trance,' he explained. 'It's called a "Wandering Spell" for a reason, Harry. Your mind will leave you body and send you to wherever you choose – Malfoy Manor, in this case – while your body rests here, safe and sound. It is not nearly as easy as it sounds, however. While you're Wandering, you must be extremely careful. It's still a possibility that you can be detected, though you won't _physically _be there. Unfortunately, I can't tell you anything about how it feels, because I have never been under the spell. The reactions have been known to ... _vary_,' he said thoughtfully.

Although Harry didn't particularly like the way Kingsley said that, he forced it from his mind and nodded. 'Okay,' he said. 'When can we do it?'

'You ... what?' asked Mrs Weasley. 'Malfoy Manor?'

'We think Ginny's there,' Bill told his mum. 'Lucius Malfoy gave Hermione a message and all the clues point to Malfoy Manor as where she was taken to.'

Harry sighed as Ron jumped in and began to bring Mrs Weasley up to speed. Honestly, couldn't they wait until _after _Ginny had been rescued?

He caught Professor McGonagall's eye and a silent understanding passed through them. They took a few steps away from the group of people, who were too busy talking or listening to notice that Harry and McGonagall had slipped away for a moment.

'Professor,' Harry said quietly, 'I don't ... I need to know what I might find when I do this.'

'What do you mean?'

'I ... the spell, it'll bring me to Malfoy Manor, right?' he asked. McGonagall nodded. 'So I'll see if they're ... if something is happening to her.'

'Are you asking me if I think the Death Eaters will be torturing her?'

'No. I already know that they might do that. I'm asking if ... if you think ...'

McGonagall looked at him expectantly.

'Rape,' he blurted out, making sure to keep his voice low, so the Weasleys wouldn't hear him. 'Would they? I mean, would Ginny –?'

'I do not think that is a top priority just yet,' McGonagall said firmly. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, though the words "_just yet_" were not lost on him.

'Okay,' he said, watching the Weasleys. He didn't think he could stand it much longer, not having Ginny with him, by his side ... safe. It physically pained him to think about what must be happening to her. Was she alone and scared? Or worse, was Lestrange with her? Maybe even Malfoy? Harry wondered if Snape would be there, if he would sneer at her in triumph before raising his wand and cursing her. He vowed to himself that, if given the chance, he would kill Snape. Once Ginny was out of danger, that is.

'Are you sure you want to do this?' asked McGonagall. 'There is a great amount of danger involved.'

'Yeah, I know. I'm sure,' he said.

'I know that you are anxious to retrieve Miss Weasley, but one of our Aurors would be more than qualified to do the spell themselves. Forgive me, but they are more ... well, _expendable_ than you are.'

Harry knew what she meant. She meant that it didn't really matter, in the grand scheme of things, if an Auror was killed. Aurors were killed everyday. But if Harry Potter died trying to save Ginny, there would be an uproar. Everyone would be doomed, because Voldemort wouldn't be stopped.

This bothered Harry on so many different levels that he didn't even know how to reply to Professor McGonagall.

He thought of Tonks and Kingsley and Moody – they were Aurors. Were they "expendable", as McGonagall had put it? They had value. They had _worth_. They had just as much reason to live as Harry did, and yet he was being treated as if he was on a higher level than the rest of wizarding kind.

And Ginny – she was important, too. Maybe rescuing Ginny didn't seem as important, to everyone else, as killing Voldemort did, but it was even more important to Harry. If something happened to Ginny ... that would be it. He would have nothing to live for, no _reason _to want to win this war.

He was going to hunt down the Horcruxes and he was going to get rid of Voldemort ... but he wasn't doing it to be a hero or because it was the right thing to do, or even because he pretty much didn't have a choice in the matter. He was doing it, now, because he wanted to make the world a good place, a safe place, for Ginny – he wanted to make the world beautiful enough for her. He wanted to give her everything he could, and then some. He wanted a house and more kids than they knew what to do with – kids with messy red hair and green eyes, or maybe even brown eyes ... yes, Harry decided, brown eyes sounded lovely.

'What I am trying to say,' McGonagall said, bringing Harry back to reality, 'is that you should not do anything drastic. There is a lot more riding on this than the fate of Miss Weasley.'

'Sorry, Professor,' Harry said, 'but Ginny's fate is really all I'm concerned with right now.'

McGonagall nodded. 'Yes, I know. That is why I am telling you this. You have a tendency of letting your emotions get the best of you, Potter. If we are to have any chance of rescuing Miss Weasley, you will need to be in control of –'

'I'm in control,' Harry said stiffly.

'I certainly hope so, for Miss Weasley's sake.'

Harry frowned and they rejoined the group, preparing what they needed for the Wandering Spell. Harry crossed his fingers and hoped they wouldn't be too late.

……………………………………………………………

When Ginny awoke, she didn't remember where she was at first. She didn't even remember passing out. As far as she remembered, she was at home, in bed. But there was a slight throbbing in her head and her bed wasn't as comfortable as she remembered. Plus, she was so _cold_. It was August. It shouldn't be this cold. And what was that smell?

She opened one eye and looked around. She wasn't in her bedroom. She sat up quickly and the past few hours came rushing back to her.

Where was she? How long had she been passed out? The room was dark and damp and had a disgusting, putrid smell to it. It was a dungeon, lit only by a few candles mounted on the walls. She was in a corner, her arms and legs invisibly bound together. She struggled but couldn't break free. She was stuck.

Terror rose inside of her when she assessed the situation. Hermione had been Stunned at the pond. Death Eaters had attacked the other guests at the wedding. Now, Ginny was being held captive here, though she didn't know where "_here_" was.

How would anybody find her? It could be ages before anyone even realized that she and Hermione had left. Would they know where to look for her? Would Hermione be able to offer them any help once she was revived? What if something had happened to Hermione, or to Ginny's family? Was Harry okay?

Harry ... was he worried about her? Had he even noticed that she was gone? Did he care?

Of course he cared, Ginny told herself. He loved her. He said he did, at least. Why would he lie about that?

She wished she could go back in time. If she could, she wouldn't have been so stupid. She wouldn't have left her wand in the house and gone gallivanting around, away from her family's sight, during a bloody war. What was she thinking? She _wasn't _thinking. But who would've thought that there would be an attack on The Burrow during Bill's wedding? She certainly hadn't.

Merlin, had it really been a few hours ago that she was standing at the altar, watching her brother get married? Had it really been that morning that she was in bed with Harry, holding him close and trying to block out Hermione, who had been trying to wake her? It didn't feel like the same day. Maybe it hadn't been. Maybe it had been days – weeks, even. Could she have been out for that long?

There was a loud, echoing sound of footsteps, and Ginny froze. She held her breath and her heart starting beating even faster than it already was as Bellatrix Lestrange came into the dungeon. Ginny had the sudden urge to vomit. Lestrange's face was twisted into a smug sneer and she kept her wand raised, in an almost hesitant way, though Ginny couldn't see why. It wasn't as if _she _could do anything. Her wand was gone and she wasn't powerful like Harry. She was completely helpless. She was at Lestrange's mercy.

This was just like her first year, when she had been dragged down into the Chamber of Secrets.

'What happened to your little family? What about Potter? They aren't coming for you, Weasley. They're going to let you die here.'

'No,' Ginny croaked out. Her throat was dry and her voice cracked. She coughed and tried to move, but the bindings held her still. 'They're coming.'

Why wasn't Lestrange wearing a mask? Ginny was terrified of the Death Eater costume, but the look on Lestrange's face chilled her even more. What was going on?

Why had she been taken, anyway? She was of no value to the Death Eaters, or even Voldemort, for that matter. She wasn't smart like Hermione. She wasn't brave like Ron. She didn't have half as much knowledge about Harry or the Order as they did.

But – oh, was that it? Was it Harry, was he the reason she had been taken? She hoped not, for many reasons. She didn't want him to feel guilty, to feel like if he had only stayed away from her that she could've been spared. Even if that _was _the truth, although Ginny wasn't sure it was, she didn't want Harry to have that on his conscience. If something was to happen to her – if she didn't make it out of this predicament – she didn't want him to hate himself, to blame himself. But mostly, she didn't want to have to admit that he was right. She didn't want him to keep thinking that it was best if they weren't together. If she got out of this, if she made it back to The Burrow, she wanted to be with him. She _loved _him. But Harry was a noble prat and he would do "the right thing", which in this case, would be distancing himself from her, so not to endanger her further.

'They don't know where you are,' Lestrange taunted. 'Do you think Potter even cares about you? He probably hasn't even noticed that you're gone.' She laughed. 'You didn't mean anything to him. You didn't mean anything to anyone.'

Why was Lestrange talking about her in past tense?

They were going to kill her, weren't they?

Did she really have anything to lose, then?

'Liar,' Ginny whispered.

'What did you call me?'

'LIAR!'

Lestrange laughed again – a deep, echoing sound that sent a chill down Ginny's spine. '_Crucio_.' Almost as soon as she had heard Lestrange utter the curse, Ginny felt a sense of pain that she'd never known before. It didn't seem possible to hurt this much. Hurt – that didn't even describe it. It was ... torture, absolute misery, intensified by a thousand per cent. How had Harry survived this? The curse seemed to go on forever, but was actually only a few seconds.

When it ended, Ginny's ears were ringing and her throat was raw. It was then that she realized she had been screaming louder than she'd ever thought possible. Her whole body burned and ached and she was vaguely aware of Lestrange talking to her.

'That ought to loosen your tongue. Tell me about –'

'Never,' Ginny breathed.

'Silly girl, don't you realize that –'

'I'm never going to tell you anything.'

'Don't interrupt me. _Crucio_!'

For the second time in her short life, Ginny knew true agony. She felt as though she had been lit on fire and thrown off a cliff and hit by a million Beaters and stabbed repeatedly, all at the same time.

'I suggest you talk.'

'I ... _no_,' said Ginny. Her voice was hoarse and she had to struggle to focus her eyes on Lestrange's face. The last thing she needed to do was pass out again. She hated herself for not being able to take the pain. She hated herself for not being strong, like Harry.

Harry.

He would come for her. He was looking for her right now. He was on his way and he would kill Lestrange for ever hurting her. He loved her. He wouldn't abandon her like this. Harry would be there for her.

In turn, Ginny would be there for him. She would tell Lestrange nothing, no matter _what _that awful woman did to her. She hadn't lied when she told him she loved him.

But wait – she didn't tell him. She had meant to ... she had tried to tell Hermione to tell him ... but she hadn't actually told him. He didn't know. And if she died, her feelings would die with her. Harry would never know that she loved him.

Hadn't he always known? She had loved him since she was ten. But it was different then. It had never felt like this back then. Ginny knew, deep down, that she hadn't been in love with Harry at the age of ten. She had an all-consuming crush on him, yes, but she hadn't loved him. She hadn't even known the real him – not until the summer before her fourth year, when they were all trapped in Grimmauld Place together. She wouldn't have died for him – she hadn't felt that until the end of her fourth year, at the Department of Mysteries. She wouldn't have been able to withstand torture for him – and even though she couldn't even begin to comprehend the hurt she was feeling right now, she would gladly take it all if she could help Harry in some way. Even though he had rejected her, even though he didn't want to be with her, even though the things Lestrange said had struck a chord inside of Ginny, she would do this all for him. Love wasn't about conditions. It was unconditional.

'You shall pay with your life, then,' Lestrange said icily.

'So be it,' said Ginny.

'Very well,' said Lestrange. '_Crucio_.'

Harry wasn't coming for her.

This one lasted longer than the previous two and left Ginny gasping for breath, taking in gulps of air but still feeling as though she needed more. Her lungs burned and her heart was pounding so fiercely Ginny thought it might stop altogether.

'Had enough? Are you ready to talk?'

'Not even close,' Ginny wheezed, feeling a strange, new sense of courage. 'I meant it. You'll have to kill me.'

'You would die to protect Potter?' she asked, seemingly irritated. 'It's a pity that he wouldn't do the same for you.'

Ginny knew that he would. But Harry would die for a lot of people. Maybe she wasn't special. Maybe she was just another person who needed to be saved by Harry. Perhaps that was why he liked her in the first place – he remembered how it felt to save her in the Chamber of Secrets, and knew that it was only a matter of time before he got the opportunity again. He liked playing the hero. That was all. Could that be it?

She was being crazy. This was what Lestrange wanted her to think. Lestrange wanted her to be weak. But Ginny was strong. She would fight until her last breath.

Lestrange used the curse again, and Ginny didn't know if her last breath would be all that far off.

……………………………………………………………


	18. The Wanderer

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Chapter Eighteen: The Wanderer  
**……………………………………………………………

'You're sure that Harry will be able to reach her?' asked Percy.

'If anyone has hope of connecting with Miss Weasley, I daresay it would be him,' McGonagall said. 'But that is neither here nor there. Harry is going to Malfoy Manor, regardless of whether she is there or not.'

Ron sighed.

Harry and Ginny, his best mate and his sister, were together.

Well, no, they weren't. Ron wouldn't be so angry if they were. The truth of the matter is that they _weren't _together. They weren't dating, they weren't involved in _any _way, and yet they were ... well, he didn't even want to think about what they were doing.

It had been happening right under his nose for weeks. All summer, he now suspected. And Hermione had known! Every time he had said something to her, every time he had mentioned that Harry and his sister had been acting strangely, she would shrug it off and tell him he was only imagining it. How could she have done that to him?

Never mind her ... how could Harry have done that to him? They were mates – _best _mates – and Harry had lied to him. Harry had bloody defiled his sister!

Ron scowled in disgust. Was this really happening? He had looked up to Harry ... he had _idolized _him. The Chaser on the Chudley Cannons was entertaining to watch, but hell, he flew around on a broom for a living. His biggest worry was whether or not a ball would go through a bloody hoop. Harry fought Voldemort and his biggest worry wasn't even whether or not he'd live to see tomorrow, but if his _friends _would live to see it. In Ron's eyes, Harry could pretty much do no wrong. But now ... Harry had done a lot wrong.

When they got Ginny back, Ron was going to sit the two of them down and murder them. Well, maybe he'd let Ginny get checked out by a Healer first. And _maybe_ he'd make a point to hug her and tell her he loved her. But once that was out of the way, Harry and Ginny were in for it.

'Can we get started?' Harry asked anxiously.

This was where things got tricky for Ron. No matter what had been happening between Harry and Ginny, no matter how vile or disgusting Ron imagined it to be, Harry really _did _care about Ginny. Anyone who didn't see that would have to be blind or deaf or a complete imbecile in one way or another. As mad as Ron wanted to be, a part of him was almost happy at the panic on his friend's face. It was that panic that was saving Harry from the arse kicking of a lifetime, courtesy of Ron Weasley.

He sighed again and tried, unsuccessfully, to listen to McGonagall and the others ramble on and on about the Wandering Spell. All he could think about was Ginny and Harry and their slightly messed up relationship.

The first time he had ever considered Harry as a good match for his sister was during his fourth year. He and Harry had been scrambling for dates at the Yule Ball and he had suggested that Ginny go with Harry. And afterwards, the more he had thought about it, the more it seemed like the perfect solution. He couldn't stand Cho Chang, and the fact that Harry was so entranced by her confused him. What was so great about her? Sure, she was pretty ... but a lot of girls were pretty. Perhaps Ron would've noticed her more if he hadn't been so busy fretting over Hermione that year. But that was beside the point.

He had figured that Ginny would be a good match for him. They spent their summers together at The Burrow and they had always ended up around each other at school ... so why not? What would be so wrong with Harry and Ginny getting together? Harry had been his best friend for years and Ron knew that he was a good, standup guy. Or Ron had _thought _he was, at least. He hadn't thought that Harry would turn his sister into a cheap slag.

Okay, so he wasn't being fair.

But still, it didn't look too good. Ron hoped that maybe Harry hadn't really meant to say what he said ... or maybe Ron had misunderstood. Yeah, that could be it.

The second time had been at the beginning of his fifth year. He had heard that Ginny was seeing Michael Corner, and when he confronted her about it, she had shrugged and looked away but hadn't denied it.

'What about Harry?' he had asked.

Ginny had sighed and planted her hands on her hips. 'I've given up on him, Ron,' she had said sternly, with a brave, slightly defiant look in her eyes.

Ron had noted that she hadn't said that she'd gotten over him. She had only said that she'd given up on him. But there had been something about the way she said it, perhaps it was the way her voice broke as she told him, that struck something inside of him.

The third time had been near the end of his fifth year, when Ginny had stood up to Harry and demanded that he let her accompany them to the Department of Mysteries. She had yelled at him and called him out, the two of them butting heads like two angry Hippogriffs. He had vaguely thought _Ginny's someone who can keep Harry in line ... and Harry looks out for her well enough. _But then, they had mounted the Threstrals and flown off to rescue Sirius, any thoughts of his sister's love life leaving his mind.

The next time had been on the train ride home, when he had not-so-subtly suggested that she choose someone better next time. Of course, Ginny had let it slip that she had already chosen Dean Thomas, so Ron had backed off.

But Ginny and Dean hadn't lasted and somehow, _finally_, Harry had pulled his head out of his arse and managed to see what a wonderful catch Ginny was.

And now –

'I think that's all we'll need,' Tonks said. Ron looked up and saw that the kitchen table had been moved away and a space on the floor had been cleared out. 'Are you ready, Harry?'

Harry nodded eagerly and joined her in the middle of the empty space. 'Er, what do I do?' he asked.

'Just lay down,' Tonks answered. Harry gave her a strange look but obeyed, getting on the floor and staring up at everyone.

'Remember,' said Kingsley, 'you are simply doing this spell to find out if Ginny is really being held at Malfoy Manor or not. You are not to be detected, because there could be dire consequences. Don't touch anything. You will be able to hear us talking to you ... we can guide you and collect information as you go, but you must remember not to speak out directly to us, or you will most likely be overheard. Don't get too close, if you can help it. You will have a half hour to get in and out. That's all the time we can give you, unfortunately. After that, the spell will have worn off. Be smart, Harry. Don't do anything stupid. If you do, Miss Weasley will be the one to suffer.'

'Is there anything else?' asked Harry.

'Take your shoes off,' Tonks said quickly. Ron felt his brow furrow and looked at her quizzically. 'It's a precaution.' Kingsley nodded and Harry kicked his shoes off.

'Are you ready?'

Harry looked at Ron as Kingsley began the spell. In that moment, Ron felt his anger momentarily subside, replaced with concern for his sister and for his best friend.

He held his breath as Harry's eyes fluttered shut.

……………………………………………………………

Harry was standing in front of a dark, looming house made of stone. It rivaled Hogwarts in size and sent a chill down Harry's spine. This, he knew, was the house of evil. And this was where Ginny was, he was sure of it. He could _feel _it. He had to get her out.

He climbed the steps and reached out to the door. How would he get in? If the front door mysteriously opened, wouldn't someone notice? Wouldn't someone investigate?

But as soon as his hand touched the door handle, it went through. Harry jumped back as if he had been burned and brought his hand up to his face to examine it. It didn't look any different ... perhaps slightly more translucent. Could he walk through things? Tonks hadn't mentioned that.

Biting his lip, he took a few steps forward and passed through the stone doors.

'_Can you hear me_,_ Harry_?'

Harry opened his mouth to answer, knowing that it was Tonks he was hearing, but remembered that he wasn't supposed to speak. He nodded, wondering if his head was nodding on the floor of Grimmauld Place.

'_Look around. Can you see anything_?'

He could see a lot of things. He could see high ceilings, marble floors, pillars and long corridors lit only by candlelight. He could see shadows lurking in the distance, patterns dancing on the walls ... but none of that mattered. He couldn't see Ginny and he couldn't see any Death Eaters.

'_Is Ginny there_?' he heard Ron ask. '_Can you see her_?'

He shook his head and kept walking. He caught himself looking over his shoulder, keeping a lookout for signs of danger, and forced himself to remember that he couldn't be seen. It felt awkward to walk around with his Invisibility Cloak or the Marauder's Map to guide him. Had he been visible, he felt certain he would've stuck out like a sore thumb.

Malfoy Manor was a dreadful place. It was cold and hard and unloving. Harry now understood how someone like Draco Malfoy could be so evil. Growing up in a household such as this must have been an awful experience. But even so, Harry felt no sympathy for the youngest Malfoy. And Harry would still extract revenge, given the chance.

A shiver ran through Harry's body and he looked around, half-expecting a Dementor to be lurking around somewhere. The negative feelings centered on this house were overwhelming. The air seemed to be charged, creating a constant feeling of unease.

He needed to focus. He needed to look around and find Ginny. She was there, he _knew _she was.

But there were so many different routes to go and Ginny could be at the end of any of these corridors, any of these flights of stairs. He tried to think of where Malfoy would keep his prisoners. In the basement ... in the dungeon, that's where. He stood in silent debate for a moment before choosing a path and hoping it was the right one.

He heard a scream, a bone-chilling, blood-curdling scream. Ginny's scream. His heart caught in his throat and despite everything, despite the fierce sense of hatred that welled up inside of him, despite the overwhelming sense of responsibility, of knowing that he had done this to her and wanting to find her, to get her back ... he couldn't move.

What would he find when he followed the sound of her screams?

'_What_ _is_ _it_? _What's_ _wrong_?'

He couldn't answer, didn't know _how _to answer.

'_Harry_?'

She screamed again, and Harry snapped out of it. He needed to get to her. If he didn't –

The sound was muffled, far away, and something told Harry that he was going the wrong way. He turned around and picked a different route, torn between wanting her to scream so he could find her, and not wanting her to scream because it would mean that she was in pain.

When no more screams came, Harry was too relieved to care that he probably wouldn't find her as quickly. He now had proof that Ginny was here. The Order members would have to believe him. He imagined McGonagall, with her hand on her hip and a stern look on her face, telling him that it could've been _anyone _who was screaming, and they couldn't be certain that it was Ginny. Okay, he'd need to get more proof.

He wandered in silence, in darkness, for a few moments before coming to a stairwell. He descended for what felt like ages, focusing on keeping one foot in front of the other. He could see and hear nothing, but something inside was telling him that Ginny was this way. A voice broke through.

'_Fifteen minutes left. Hurry._'

Fifteen minutes? Shite! What had he been doing all this time? Walking around with his head up his arse, it seemed, because he still hadn't gotten any closer to Ginny. And there were no candles lighting the way anymore; there was no way of seeing anything around him. He knew, logically, that wandering around in the dark wasn't the smartest thing in the world, but something was calling him, drawing him deeper into the darkness.

He could hear a voice – a female – but he couldn't make out what she was saying. With a shaking hand, he reached into his robes and gripped his wand, prepared to draw it at any moment. If it was Bellatrix Lestrange – wait, what was he going to do? Was he going to hex her ... kill her like she had killed Sirius? Could he even do it? He had no doubt that he could, that he would be able to ... but would the Wandering Spell allow it?

He shook his head to clear his mind. He wouldn't let himself do anything that would put Ginny in danger.

The voice was getting louder, coming up behind him. Harry knew for certain now that it was Lestrange. He moved around blindly, wondering what would happen if he accidentally bumped into her. There was another voice, a male one, which he didn't recognize.

Harry stayed stock-still, blanketed in darkness. He listened as the voices came up behind him, passed him, and then ceased. Lestrange and the man fell into silence. A loud, screeching sound rang out and Harry's eyes widened as a door opened, ten yards ahead of him, illuminating the corridor. Wands raised, Lestrange and the other Death Eater disappeared into the other room while another came out. The heavy, steel door closed, leaving Harry in the darkened corridor with the other Death Eater, whose echoing footsteps were retreating, going back up the stairs.

'Are you ready to talk, Weasley?'

Harry gasped. Ginny was in there. She was right on the other side of the wall. Was she okay?

There was a moment of silence before Harry head Ginny's weak reply.

'Not even close.'

'_Are you getting anything_?'

Harry ignored the voices and walked forward, colliding roughly with the door. There must have been some sort of spell protecting the room, because Harry couldn't get through.

'_Are you there_?' Tonks prodded, but Harry did not bother to answer.

He would just have to wait until someone opened the door and he could slip inside.

'_Bloody hell, are you listening? Is she there or not_?'

'_Ron_ –'

'_Well, honestly. Make him answer us_!'

Had the situation not have been so dire, Harry would've smiled at his friends' antics. Ron and Hermione were pathetic ... in the best way possible. He loved them both but Merlin; they danced around each other in the most annoying way. At first, he had been worried about what would happen if Ron and Hermione were to get together. Now, he was worried about what would happen if they _didn't_.

Harry hadn't realized that he had been waiting for quite some time until he heard Tonks tell him, '_You have five minutes._'

Harry's heart began racing again and he silently screamed, demanding that the door open so he could get inside. He wondered if he could do wandless magic, if he should even bother trying.

At last, there was an echoing sound of laughter, followed by another loud screech. Harry looked up in time to see two figures entering the corridor.

With agility Harry hadn't known he possessed, he bolted to the door and slipping in just before it closed, bringing him into the room that held Ginny.

It was a huge room, and as dungeon-like as anything he'd ever seen before. It reeked of urine and decay and ... well, if pure evil had a smell, Harry was sure that this was it. Like the rest of the Manor, candles that were mounted on the wall acted as the only source of light. There were chains in the corner and a bucket, of which Harry did not want to know its contents. The stone walls trapped the cold and Harry shivered, feeling the coolness of the room in his very soul. He took a few steps forward, deeper into the dungeon, his eyes scanning the corners for Ginny.

She wasn't there.

Damn it! How was that possible? He had heard her! She had to be in there.

He wondered how many dungeons the Malfoy's could possibly have. Surely they only had one. But then again, Harry wouldn't put it past Lucius Malfoy to have a whole underground network of dungeons, of torture chambers, of rooms devoted to Voldemort and the Dark Arts.

Perhaps she _wasn't _in there.

But he had heard Lestrange talking to her ... hadn't he?

Beside his foot, however, lay a piece of gold material. It looked like it had been ripped off Ginny's dress ... she'd most likely stepped on it and it had torn. Harry drew his wand from the pocket of his robes, on guard, his senses attuned to everything around him. He wished he had Ginny's wand on him, so maybe he could give her it and she could fight the Death Eaters off. Would it help her to have a wand, or would the Death Eaters outnumber her and kill her for complicating their plans? What _were _their plans? No matter what was going to happen, Ginny was going to need her wand to defend herself. He would have to remember to grab it when they came back to rescue her.

A new sense of panic surged inside of Harry when he finally spotted her, far across the dungeon. She was huddled in the corner, her head lolled to the side. She had never looked smaller than she did at that moment. Harry had a brief flashback to the Chamber of Secrets. Even then, she hadn't looked this pale, this fragile ... this _broken_.

He studied her chest as he walked closer, but didn't see the telltale rising and falling. Was she breathing?

Yes. As he got closer, he saw that she was. Her breathing was weak, so weak that Harry wasn't truly sure if it was actually happening, or if he was simply imagining it. But he did not have time to debate with himself, because Tonks cut in again.

'_Thirty_ _seconds, Harry._'

Harry sunk to his knees and leaned forward, staring at the limp figure in front of him.

'Ginny,' he whispered before he could catch himself. He had been ordered not to talk ... but that had only applied to when others were around, right? 'It's okay ... I'm going to come back for you ... I'm going to kill them all for this ...'

And in that moment, kneeling on the cold, stone floor and staring at a near-lifeless Ginny, Harry knew that he would. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for the girl before him.

'_Twenty_ _seconds._'

There was a loud echoing sound behind him and Harry turned. The man who murdered Dumbledore entered the dungeon and frowned when he saw Ginny. Hatred arose in Harry, momentarily cancelled out by confusion. A flick of – was that worry? – passed through Snape's features before it faded, replaced by a hard sneer. Harry stared at his former Professor and wondered if it had really even been there at all.

Snape looked directly at Harry, who felt his blood run cold and his heart hammer furiously against his ribcage. He felt certain that he had been sighted before remembering that he couldn't possibly have been. Snape shook his head and gripped his wand.

'_Ten seconds. Get ready._'

'_Ennervate_,' Snape said, pointing his wand at Ginny.

Ginny's eyes fluttered open and she gasped, stiffening suddenly as she saw Snape.

'Get away from me,' she said weakly, but Harry felt sudden pride bubble up inside when he saw the fierce look her eyes still held.

'Quiet, Weasley,' Snape spat. He looked around and waved his hand, muttering something under his breath. He turned to her again. 'There is no time. Listen carefully.'

Harry opened his eyes and found himself on the hard kitchen floor of Grimmauld Place.

……………………………………………………………


	19. The Waiting

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Chapter Nineteen: The Waiting  
**……………………………………………………………

This was a nightmare. It had to be.

There was no way that Hermione was really standing in the middle of Grimmauld Place with her parents and the Weasleys – her two families, one magical and one Muggle – watching as Harry was put under some type of daze because Ginny had been captured by Death Eaters right outside of The Burrow.

But it _was _real.

And Hermione loved her parents, really, but if they didn't stop fussing over her and let her focus on Harry, she was going to snap.

'Is Ginny the little redhead girl? Why was she taken?' asked her mother.

'Who took her?' asked her father.

'And _why were you there_? Do you _try _to be put in dangerous situations, Hermione?'

'Mum, Dad, this isn't the time,' Hermione muttered. She had known it would be disastrous the moment she saw her parents step out of the fireplace. She couldn't believe that Mrs Weasley had actually brought them here – to Headquarters, of all places. The worst part was that they had heard the updates that the Weasley boys were giving Mrs Weasley. They had heard everything about Ginny and the Death Eaters. They had heard that Hermione had been there when they were attacked.

Hermione's eyes wandered to Ron, who was standing a few feet away and staring at Harry (who was now under the Wandering Spell) with an unreadable expression. Was she a horrible person because she wanted to be with him instead of her parents? She hadn't seen them in over a month. She should be happy to be with them again. However, they were staring at her in an accusing way, as if she had _chosen _to be in the middle of this danger all the time.

Well, actually, she did choose to be there. And nothing they could say would make her not want to be with Harry and the Weasleys. She couldn't leave them, not now. She would have to find a way to tell her parents that she wasn't going home with them like they expected her to.

Harry's body gave a frightening jolt and Hermione couldn't take it any longer.

'Excuse me,' she said, giving her parents the brush-off.

'Hermione –' her mother said forcefully, but Hermione wasn't listening. She stepped around them and went to Ron, who didn't take his eyes off Harry but put his arm around her. Harry was now examining his hand with great interest. Hermione wondered if the Wandering Spell also made you go a bit nutters.

'Can you hear me, Harry?' asked Tonks.

Hermione watched as Harry opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, looking similar to a fish out of water, before nodding slowly.

'Look around. Can you see anything?'

There was no answer for a moment, though Harry's head was moving slightly from side to side as if inspecting something, and Ron groaned in frustration.

'Is Ginny there? Can you see her?' demanded Ron.

Harry's head shook.

Hermione had no idea that a person under the Wandering Spell was so active. Really, they could see just about everything Harry was doing. Every move he made, other than walking (Hermione guessed this was why Harry had to lie down); they could see him act out on the floor of Grimmauld Place.

Ron sighed and tightened his grip on her slightly. Was it wrong of her to be thinking about him in that way while Ginny was gone and Harry was doing a dangerous spell, trying to find her? Yes, she decided, it was slightly inappropriate. But she couldn't stop thinking about him. Did he return her feelings by holding her, or was he merely comforting her? She _had _been through a somewhat traumatic experience, after all.

Nothing happened for a few moments. Harry was chewing his lip, as if debating something. Not one set of eyes left him – even Hermione's parents were watching intently now. Nobody missed the pained look that crossed his features or the way his whole body seemed to tense.

'What is it?' asked Tonks. 'What's wrong?' He didn't answer. Had he been caught? Was that even possible? Hermione wasn't familiar with the Wandering Spell. It was something taught to Aurors during training, and she could only vaguely recall coming across it once during fifth year, when she had gone through the entire library for yet another round of "light reading". But the book that had mentioned it had offered no explanation for it and she, for once, hadn't chosen to explore it further. How was she supposed to know that _this _would happen, that Harry would ever have to do this sort of spell? 'Harry?'

At last, Harry's body relaxed. Hermione let out a shaky breath and forced herself to keep her eyes on her friend, almost afraid of what his body would do next. The silence in the kitchen was deafening and Hermione hadn't realized that she had begun daydreaming until Tonks interrupted her train of thought again.

'Fifteen minutes left. Hurry.'

Harry shook his head and his body stiffened slightly, his features tightening. He looked ... angry. Something had set him off, Hermione thought. She hoped against hope that he wouldn't do anything stupid. The anger seemed to be replaced with fear moments later as Hermione heard him gasp; giving her the sense that something big was happening. She hated this, not being able to see what was going on at Malfoy Manor. She was sure it was something awful, something she didn't _want _to see. But she wasn't very fond of being kept in the dark. She needed to know things. She needed to have answers. She needed to _give_ answers.

She was Hermione Granger. It was what she did.

Mrs Weasley was clutched in Mr Weasley's arms. Hermione hated this. Why did the Weasleys constantly have to suffer? Whether it was Bill or Percy or Mr Weasley ... it was as if the family had a huge target on their backs. And now Ginny was in danger. Who would be next? Would it be Ron? Hermione shuddered and leaned against him, into his arms.

Tonks gave Kingsley a worried look. 'Are you getting anything?' she asked Harry. A flicker of annoyance passed over Harry's features, but he didn't answer. 'Are you there?'

Why wasn't he answering? Hermione understood that he couldn't speak, but he could at least nod or shake his head or _something_.

Ron let go of her and took a few steps forward. 'Bloody hell, are you listening?' he yelled at Harry. 'Is she there or not?'

Hermione grabbed his arm and attempted to pull him back. 'Ron –'

'Well, honestly,' he said, spinning around to face his mum. 'Make him answer us!' Bill and Charlie shot Ron warning glances.

An eternity seemed to pass after that. Hermione leaned against the wall and stared down at Harry, tapping her foot in silent unison with the ticking of the kitchen clock. Whoever said that waiting was the hardest part had been absolutely correct. This was murder.

She felt as though someone was staring at her and looked up to find her parents watching her closely. Well, her father was watching her. Her mother, on the other hand, was watching everyone else. She was staring at everyone in the room as if they had all sprouted three extra heads and Hermione felt slightly annoyed and, yes, _irritated_, at the critical look on her face. So they weren't perfect. But they were her friends – they were her _family_, just as much as her parents were, actually. Her parents were going to have to learn to accept that.

The Grangers and the Weasleys had always gotten on quite nicely in the past. Why, at the beginning of the summer, they had all gathered at The Burrow and had a nice dinner. But that was before Hermione had been injured. She knew she couldn't blame her parents for being slightly skeptical. It would be too big of a risk to tell Hermione's parents about the Horcruxes, and so they were left in the dark. They had been forced to draw their own conclusions as to how Hermione had gotten hurt. Perhaps they could have let it go and gotten past it, but she had also been injured at the end of her fifth year. And she had been Petrified in second year. It looked bad, she had to admit.

Her mother was now looking around the room. A thought struck Hermione: her parents were at Headquarters. She had realized this before, of course, but the weight of the situation only hit her now. If they couldn't know about the Horcruxes, would it be safe for them to know where Grimmauld Place was? Even if they weren't acting as Secret Keepers, they could still be tortured for information.

'Professor,' Hermione said in a soft voice, taking a few steps toward McGonagall, 'my parents. They won't ... they won't be in danger because of this, right? I mean, they're at Headquarters. And they're Muggles, you see ...'

'No, Miss Granger,' said McGonagall, who wasn't taking her eyes off Harry. 'If you are truly concerned, however, we can modify their memories. With their permission, of course.'

Mrs Granger let out a small yelp and Hermione shook her head. 'Um, no ... I don't think that will be necessary.' McGonagall nodded and Hermione forced herself to look back over at her parents.

'_Headquarters_?' her father demanded. 'Hermione, what have you gotten yourself into?'

Hermione shook her head, not answering, and went back over to Ron. She couldn't deal with this right now. It was too overwhelming. Everything about this day was utter crap, and she just wanted to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow to find that it was all a dream – a nightmare – a _hallucination_. It could be anything, really. She wasn't picky.

Lupin muttered something to Tonks, who sighed. 'You have five minutes,' she said, her voice sounding worried. Harry's fist clenched at his side and his face was screwed up in concentration.

'This is mad,' Ron muttered. 'I hate not knowing what's happening ... I hate that all we have to go by is Harry's bloody facial expressions.'

Hermione nodded and frowned. Bill began pacing the room. Charlie was standing in the corner, so still that Hermione had to wonder if he had been Petrified. Fred and George were sitting in two chairs, apparently not finding anything about this situation remotely funny. Percy was cracking his knuckles nervously.

Percy ... what was he doing there? Hermione wondered what had happened while she and Ginny were at the pond. Percy had been Stunned ... had he been fighting alongside his family? Had they made up? Had they simply come together, for Ginny's sake, but were still estranged? It was far too confusing. There were too many possibilities.

'Thirty seconds, Harry.'

Thirty seconds?

Harry hadn't found Ginny. He would've given some indication. He would have nodded or jumped or done _something_. There was no hope now. Maybe Ginny wasn't there. Maybe Malfoy had only given her that message to throw them off Voldemort's trail.

'_Ginny._'

Hermione heard Ron inhale sharply. Had Harry just said what she thought he said? It sounded like he had whispered Ginny's name. Everyone took a few tentative steps closer to Harry.

'_It's_ _okay,_' he whispered. '_I'm going to come back for you. I'm going to kill them all for this._'

Harry was going to come back for her. Did that mean Ginny was alive? Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

But then the rest of his statement was processed in her brain: He was going to kill the Death Eaters. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he would, too. That was scary. Harry, her best friend, the one she'd known since she was eleven, was going to become a murderer.

'Twenty seconds.'

He was going to become one anyway, regardless of whether or not he killed a few Death Eaters. He would have to kill Voldemort. But that was different. There was no way around killing Voldemort.

Merlin, how had it come to this? Harry was going to be a murderer. And judging by the look on Ron's face when he found out that Ginny had been taking, he was going to become one as well. They weren't going to be innocent any longer.

But really, how innocent had they been in the first place? Hadn't this war stolen their innocence long ago? Was killing someone really going to make a difference? A Death Eater was evil, but there was still a person under those robes. Hermione didn't think she'd be able to kill one of them.

'Ten seconds,' said Tonks, shifting on her feet. 'Get ready.'

She was slightly unnerved, but she wasn't sure if it was because she felt sure Ron and Harry _would _be able to kill one, or because she didn't particularly think they would be committing a sin by doing it.

But Hermione had know all along, logically, that virtually nobody would escape the war without getting a bit of blood on their hands. If it came down to it, she would do what was best for Harry, for Ron and for everyone else she loved. She _would _be able to kill. She would force herself to do it.

This revelation knocked the wind of out her. She was willing to take someone's life in order to protect Harry, Ron or Ginny. But it wasn't even them, per say. If it was _any _of the Weasleys ... if it was Tonks or Lupin or Kingsley ... Professor McGonagall ... even Moody ... she would draw her wand and hold her breath, hoping she had enough feeling to conjure the Killing Curse.

They had lost so many people already, so many _wonderful _people who didn't deserve to have their lives taken away. She thought of Sirius, of Dumbledore ... of Harry's parents, and Neville's, too. She thought of Gideon and Fabian Prewett, the uncles Ron and Ginny sometimes mentioned, the ones who had been killed by Voldemort years and years ago.

She knew that they wouldn't lose any others – not if she could help it. She would never lose her parents, or the Weasleys. They would get Ginny back, and she would be okay. Hermione couldn't lose Ginny, one of her best friends, the girl whose smile lit up a room and whose heart was as big as they came.

She would never lose Harry – sweet, brave, noble Harry – to the fight. She would never let him quit, never let him give up or be killed by Voldemort.

And no matter what, she would _never _lose Ron.

……………………………………………………………

The first thing Harry said when the spell wore off was: 'BASTARD!'

Ron was impressed that Hermione didn't even flinch. On the contrary, she was chewing her lip and seemed to be deep in thought about something. Merlin, she was gorgeous. 'Well?' he asked eagerly, regaining his head.

Harry got to his feet, his eyes wide with worry, looking momentarily disoriented. 'Snape!' he yelled. 'Snape is there with Ginny! They're at Malfoy Manor ... I _saw _them!'

Snape? Snape, the one who had killed Dumbledore some two moths previous, was with his sister?

'Was he torturing her?' asked Bill.

Harry shook his head. 'He was probably about to, though!' he yelled, the urgency in his voice rather apparent now. 'Professor, Ginny is there. I know for a fact ... why are we still standing around? Let's move!'

'Very well,' said McGonagall. 'Potter, Granger, Weasley: you may go up to bed. Miss Granger, please show your parents to a room. Everyone else, follow me.'

Wait – what was going on? Ron blinked stupidly, trying to understand what had just happened. Harry had done the spell and found out that Ginny was really at Malfoy Manor. They had everything they needed. All they had to do was storm in there and bust her out. Why was McGonagall acting as though Ginny's life _wasn't _on the line here?

His sister was alone with Snape, completely defenseless, and everyone was standing around, twiddling their bloody thumbs.

'Excuse me,' Harry said, sounding a bit panicked and very incredulous, 'but you're not serious, right? We aren't going up to bed, Professor! Don't you get it? Ginny is _gone_. She's at Malfoy Manor with all those Death Eaters! She isn't going to come back unless we _do_ something!'

'Which is what _we _will be doing, Potter,' McGonagall said firmly. 'We now know that Miss Weasley is being held at Malfoy Manor. But we still cannot make a move without strategizing.' She placed her hands on her hips and gave him a stern look. 'We will need time, a few hours, perhaps, to properly plan this,' she continued. 'When I suggested that you get some sleep, I merely assumed you would like some. You are more than welcome to go up to the drawing room and wait, if you would prefer it.'

'What I would _prefer_ is for all of us to quit standing around here with our heads up our arses!' cried Harry. He looked expectantly at Mr Weasley. 'Mr Weasley – this is ridiculous! Tell her that this is ridiculous!'

Mr Weasley bowed his head. 'Ridiculous though it may seem,' he said, 'Minerva is right. We need to take the proper precautions.'

Ron could never recall a time in his life, before now, when he had wanted to hurt his father, to scream at him and shake him until he conceded and Ron got his way. How could he do this? How could he _say _this? It was his daughter at stake! McGonagall was crazy. She had gone mad! She had lost all bearing, and now she was trying to lead the Order, as if this was a mission for some bloody Horcrux or something. This was Ginny. She was about a million times more important that any stupid Horcrux.

'Perhaps it would be best if Miss Granger saw a Healer before turning in. I will contact Audrey. You look like you could do with a Deflating Potion for your jaw, Potter.'

Harry met Ron's eyes and a flicker of understanding passed through them.

A sense of panic and – was that thrill? – coursed through Ron's body.

'Fine,' Harry sighed angrily. 'C'mon, let's go.' He motioned for Ron and Hermione to follow him as he left the kitchen and made his way toward the stairs. 'We'll be upstairs, when you lunatics need us!'

'Mum, Dad, follow me,' said Hermione. 'I'll find you a room to stay in while we wait.'

As everyone split up, Ron hurried after Harry, taking the stairs two at a time, and stopped beside him in the middle of the corridor. 'We have to leave Hermione out of this,' Ron said instantly. 'She can't know.'

Harry nodded. 'The less people involved, the better,' he agreed. 'It's you and me, that's it.'

No matter how Ron felt about Harry right now, in that second, the eleven-year-old boy inside of him jumped for joy at Harry's acceptance and trust. Harry could've easily slipped out without anyone noticing. Instead, he chose to find Ron first. He chose to _include _Ron.

'Where is she?'

'In one of the dungeons,' Harry said. 'The place is so sodding confusing ... there are so many corridors and staircases ...'

'Bloody Malfoys,' Ron muttered. 'You know where to go, right?'

'Right,' said Harry.

'Okay. I'll follow you, then.'

Harry nodded and cursed. 'Except ... do you know where Malfoy Manor is, exactly?' Ron shook his head. 'We'll never be able to Apparate there without getting lost or Spliching ourselves. And going by Floo would be way too stupid, even for us.'

'How will we do it, then?' asked Ron. He could feel the hope of rescuing Ginny slipping away, being replaced with disappointment and dread.

'We need a Portkey,' Harry said. He sighed. 'And there's only one person here who knows how and would even consider making us one.'

'Hermione,' said Ron.

'What about Hermione?' Ron cursed inwardly and spun around. Hermione was standing behind them, a curious expression on her face and her arms folded across her chest. 'Well? What about me?'

'Er – nothing,' he said quickly. 'Where've you been?'

'I went to set my parents up in one of the spare rooms,' she said slowly, giving them The Look. She unfolded her arms and took a few steps closer, her eyes widening in recognition. 'You're going after her, aren't you?'

Ron shook his head furiously but Harry said, 'Yes. And we need a Portkey.'

Harry was completely daft if he expected Hermione to help them out. Ron knew she'd never go for it. Why in the world would she? It was crazy and irrational and _dangerous_. And maybe it was okay to Ron because Ginny was his sister and, well, he wasn't exactly a logical thinker to begin with … but Hermione was different. She had the ability to separate her feelings from important decisions. She would more than likely run straight to McGonagall and tell her that Ron and Harry were planning on going to the Manor alone.

'I'll need my wand,' Hermione said in a very business-like tone. 'It's at The Burrow.' Her eyes flickered back and forth between Harry and Ron. 'Give me five minutes. Create a distraction or something – whatever you do, don't let anyone notice that I'm gone.'

Apparently, the entire world had gone nutters, because Hermione had just agreed to help Ron and Harry sneak out, completely disobeying orders and breaking about a million rules.

That, or Ron simply didn't know Hermione Granger as well as he thought he did.

No. It was the first one. Definitely.

Hermione began walking down the stairs. She stopped at half and turned back around. 'I'll get your Invisibility Cloak while I'm there, Harry.'

Harry nodded and they watched as Hermione disappeared.

'Look, Ron ... about Ginny –'

Ron cut him off with his hand. 'Not now. Please.' Too much was going on for Ron to focus on Harry and Ginny. He wasn't even angry about it, not really. The more he thought about it, the less he cared. Which is what bothered him the most. He was supposed to be Ginny's big brother; he was supposed to protect her. He was angry with himself, not Harry. He should've been watching her better. Or perhaps he should've realized a long time ago that Ginny was resourceful and would do whatever she had to when it came to Harry.

'Professor!'

Ron flinched as Hermione's voice reached his ears.

'So sorry, Hermione, but I'm under orders,' he heard Lupin say from downstairs. 'I'm not allowed to let you, Ron or Harry pass through here. I was – wait, were you going to the fireplace?'

'Um ... yes,' said Hermione. Ron and Harry exchanged looks and crept closer to the edge of the stairs, to better hear Hermione and Lupin's exchange. 'You see, I left my wand and The Burrow and I'll need it ...'

'Oh, yes, of course,' said Lupin. 'Hold it – if you were simply going to get your wand, then why were you creeping downstairs?'

Ron held his breath and waited for Hermione to answer. 'You know, Professor ... that is an excellent question. Why was I creeping? _Why _was I creeping?' she repeated, stalling for time. 'Well, I didn't – I didn't want to interrupt your meeting! Yes, that's it. And so I thought that if I went quietly, I wouldn't disturb you adults.' Harry sighed and shook his head. 'I'll be going to get my wand now. Carry on.' Ron rolled his eyes. Hermione was an awful liar.

Lupin chuckled. 'I may be a werewolf, but I am not an idiot. Upstairs with you,' he said.

'You don't understand, I –'

'I think I understand quite well, actually,' Lupin said lightly. 'Please, Hermione, go upstairs. I'd hate to have to cause a scene because you aren't obeying orders and are planning ... well, I can only _imagine _what must be going on in that brain of yours.' Hermione laughed nervously. 'Especially since your parents are only just upstairs,' he pressed on.

When Hermione appeared at the base of the stairs, looking defeated, Ron knew that she had been bested by Professor Lupin.

'I tried,' she said quietly.

Harry sighed but nodded.

'We'll just have to think of something else.'

……………………………………………………………

'Perhaps this is for the best,' Hermione said a few minutes later. The trio was still in the corridor, sitting on the cold floor and slumped against the rough walls, searching their brains. 'Maybe McGonagall was right.'

Harry gritted his teeth. McGonagall wasn't right. Just because he, Ron and Hermione couldn't come up with another feasible way of getting to Malfoy Manor didn't mean they _shouldn't_. It only meant that they should try harder.

Well, there was a chance that Hermione and McGonagall were right. Harry knew that he probably wasn't thinking as rationally as he could be. But Ginny was in danger. What else mattered, really?

The adults were supposed to be strategizing ... but how long did that take? They had already been waiting for what felt like a few centuries. How much more time did they need?

The worst part was that Harry knew Ginny wouldn't ever speak to him again, once they got her back. She hated him. He hated himself.

All this time, Harry had been hurting her because he was trying to keep her safe. He thought he was protecting her. And instead, she had been right: she had been a target since the age of eleven – both because of Harry's connection to her family and her connection to Tom Riddle's diary – and whether she and Harry were officially together throughout the summer or not, they had been linked at Hogwarts. Snape had heard the gossip. And that was enough to hurt Ginny, to put her in danger, no matter how hard Harry tried to keep her safe. Snape knew. And that bastard used his knowledge of Harry to hit him where it hurt: his heart.

Severus Snape was the one who told Voldemort about the prophecy. He was the reason Harry's parents were dead. Harry hated Snape with a passion, but he was not at the top of Harry's list. But if Ginny died, it would be Snape's doing, and he would earn himself the top position on said list. Harry didn't care. Snape would even be ahead of Voldemort.

Something Dumbledore had once told him entered his mind: Love was what he needed to defeat Voldemort. It was what saved Harry from the Killing Curse when he was an infant, and he knew that if he survived Voldemort this time around, it would be because of his love for Ginny and her love for him.

'How can you even _say _that?' demanded Ron.

'There are a lot of things to take into consideration,' Hermione said carefully.

'Like what?' Harry asked. 'Like the prophecy?'

'Well ... yes, that's something to think about,' said Hermione. 'The prophecy is an important part.'

'I agree,' said Harry. 'And unless we have "a power the Dark Lord knows not", none of the rest matters.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Ginny,' said Harry. Hermione furrowed her brow. Suddenly, everything seemed to click into place. It all made sense … was he the only one who saw it? 'Don't you get it, Hermione? Ginny's the first female Weasley to be born in ... well, a _long _time,' he said. 'And she was born in August ...'

Ron's eyes widened after a moment. 'But you don't think –?'

'Yeah, I do.'

'Would someone please tell me what's going on?' Hermione interjected. Harry nearly laughed. Since when did Hermione not understand something?

'She was born in August,' Harry repeated. Hermione nodded. 'That means that she had to be ... er, _conceived _... around November.'

'Well, that's an image every child wants of their parents,' Ron said with a shudder.

'The prophecy was made right at the very end of October,' Harry said, ignoring Ron. 'What if ... what if the "power" was meant to be Ginny?'

'Do you mean to say,' Hermione said slowly, 'that you think Ginny is your ... _destiny_?'

Harry shrugged. It sounded right in his head, but when she said it aloud ... it sounded cheap or cliché or something silly like that. 'I've got enough "destinies" to fulfill already, thanks. But yeah, I guess that's what I'm saying.'

'So if the prophecy was never made, Ginny wouldn't exist,' Hermione said, more to herself than anyone else. 'Or Ron would have another brother, instead of a sister.'

'It makes sense, though,' said Ron. 'If the prophecy hadn't existed, Harry's parents would still be alive and he probably wouldn't be friends with _me_.'

Harry frowned. 'Ron –'

'You wouldn't have asked Mum how to get through the barrier,' Ron clarified, seeing the look on his friend's face. 'And then we wouldn't have met. Mum wouldn't have practically adopted you if you had a family of your own already.'

'And if you didn't spend your summers at The Burrow,' Hermione said, 'then you wouldn't know Ginny. Not very well, at least.' She paused for a moment and chewed her lip. 'It's almost as if some force out there _knew _that – that you'd need someone to love, Harry, and so –'

Ron sighed. 'My brain is starting to hurt. Can we just drop this?'

Harry nodded but couldn't shake the thought that Ginny was meant for him – that she was "destined" for him, as Hermione had put it. Was it possible? Or was he looking too far into things? But Hermione had agreed with him. Was it merely a coincidence that Ginny was the first female to be born into the Weasley family in ages? Or that she was the seventh child of a seventh child?

'Hello, there,' Harry heard Lupin say from the kitchen.

'Remus, hello. How are you?'

'Not very well, actually ... things around here are rather tense at the moment,' Lupin said.

'Yes. Awful, that. Where is she?'

'Upstairs.'

Harry craned his neck and saw Audrey climbing the stairs.

Hermione sighed. 'No, no, I don't need an examination,' she said.

'Nonsense,' Audrey said, holding up her hands. 'Whether you are hurt or not, I'm under strict orders from Minerva. I _must _examine you. Shall we use one of these rooms?' she suggested. Hermione didn't answer. 'Don't make this hard, Hermione.'

Hermione muttered something under her breath but stood up and followed Audrey down the corridor.

'Do anything while I'm gone,' warned Hermione as she walked away, 'and I'll hex you both.'

Harry smirked as Ron yelled after her, 'But you don't have a wand!'

They sat in companionable silence for a long moment. Harry risked a glance at Ron, hoping to get an idea of what he was thinking, and found his friend staring back at him.

'We'll get her back,' Ron said.

Ron's assurance caused hope to bubble up in Harry's chest, but he quickly squashed it, knowing better than to get his hopes up. 'You don't know that,' said Harry. 'Not for sure.'

'I'd stake my life on it,' said Ron. Harry winced. Didn't Ron get how serious the situation was? Didn't he understand that Ginny was stubborn and wouldn't cooperate ... didn't he understand that the Death Eaters would mostly likely get bored and annoyed and end up killing her, like they did to anyone else who got in their way? 'You, Hermione and I, we'll get her back.'

Harry attempted a smile. 'So Hermione's allowed in on this one, then? I thought she had to be left out of it.'

Ron sighed and nodded. 'She's too smart for her own good, sometimes. I hate to say it ... but we need her. She's a better fighter than half those bloody Aurors.'

Harry nodded silently and looked down at his hands. 'This is such a mess. And it's –'

'It isn't your bloody fault,' Ron said earnestly. 'You fancy my sister, Harry. I –'

'But I don't fancy her,' he said quietly, looking back up to meet Ron's eyes. 'I'm in love with her.'

Ron gave a noncommittal head nod. 'Okay, so you're _in love _with my sister. So what? I'm in love with Hermione. If something happened to her, would it be my fault, then?' asked Ron, though Harry knew that if something happened to Hermione, Ron would take full responsibility for it.

Harry shook his head, his thoughts too focused on Ginny to even realize what his friend had just admitted about their other friend.

'I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to hit you.'

'I deserved it,' Harry said.

'Yeah,' Ron laughed. 'But still ... if Ginny has to be with someone, I'm glad it's you.' Harry nodded, unsure of what to say in response. 'Listen,' continued Ron, now shifting uncomfortably and averting his eyes. 'I suppose it wouldn't do to well for me to kill you until after you've beaten You-Know-Who,' he said lightly, 'but I need to know – without going into detail, please. Did you do anything with my sister ... other than have a few snogs?'

'No,' said Harry, and Ron sighed in relief.

Sometimes, Harry noted, it was just easier to lie.

……………………………………………………………


	20. The Rescue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**The kitchen scene with Ron and Hermione in this chapter first popped into my head months and months ago – when I was a huge R/Hr shipper but (gasp) couldn't stand H/G – and it wouldn't go away. The main reason I wrote this story was so I could work in this upcoming scene. And I think listening to the song '4AM' by Our Lady Peace kind of sets the mood for this chapter, the kitchen scene especially.**

**Chapter Twenty: The Rescue  
**……………………………………………………………

This was awful.

No, awful would be Harry having to live with the Dursleys until he died. Awful would be Mr Weasley losing his job at the Ministry. Awful would be waking up tomorrow to find that Voldemort had murdered a whole other group of wizards and Muggles.

This was _worse _than awful, because it was Ginny. And Harry couldn't do anything to save her.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Harry _could _save her, if only McGonagall would let him go after her. But instead, she had locked herself up in one of the rooms in Grimmauld Place and taken all of the Order members with her. She had called it strategizing. Harry wasn't so sure. He had done a lot of strategizing in the past – whether for Quidditch or for sneaking around Hogwarts or when trying to get Slughorn to give him that memory – and it had _never _taken him this long. Well, the Slughorn thing had taken quite a bit of time. But that was beside the point.

Harry checked the clock again. It had been over an hour since him, Ron and Hermione had been ordered upstairs. In that hour, they could've been out rescuing Ginny. Merlin, they could've been _back_ withGinnyby now!

She could be getting killed … or she could already bedead!

But she wasn't dead. Harry knewshe wasn't, because he would _feel _it.

His scar would twinge when Voldemort was up to something, and it would throb and burn when something _big _was happening.

His heart was aching now, telling him that Ginny was in danger. But it hadn't broken yet, so he knew she was okay. She was tough … she would hold on. She had survived Voldemort once before, after all.

That was the real dilemma for Harry. Ginny wouldn't have survived if Harry and Ron hadn't gone after her, if Harry hadn't destroyed the diary and saved her. Was history repeating itself? Was Harry supposed to go after her now?

He had had enough. He wasn't a patient person. In a way, he couldn't _believe _that McGonagall expected him to sit around, quietly twiddling his thumbs, while everyone else made themselves "useful" for Ginny.

Sighing, he trudged resolutely down the stairs. Once in the kitchen, he discovered Professor Lupin exactly where he had been when Hermione had attempted to sneak over to The Burrow.

'What do you think you're doing?' asked Lupin.

'I can't go and get Ginny by myself,' he admitted. 'I'll only end up getting my arse kicked by the Death Eaters. But everyone is in that meeting, trying to come up with some bloody strategy, and I'm not going to be excluded from it.'

'I'm sorry,' Lupin said sincerely, 'but I can't let you pass. I have been told that you, Ron and Hermione are not to be allowed into the meeting. As Minerva tells me, you waved that right when you were kicked out of the Order earlier today.' He raised his eyebrows knowingly.

Harry tried to stand tall as he drew his wand. 'You know, you're the closest thing to a father that I've got,' he said. 'But if you think that I won't do something drastic to get into that meeting, you're wrong.'

'Harry –'

'Step aside,' said Harry. 'Please.'

'Fine,' said Lupin, who now seemed understanding and slightly amused. 'But if Minerva asks, I'm telling her that you bullied me into it.'

Harry attempted a smile.

……………………………………………………………

Ron sighed in frustration and paced the bedroom he and Harry used during the summer before fifth year. He was waiting for Harry to come find him, to tell him that the meeting was over and they were ready to go get his sister back. Why wasn't Harry coming? What was taking the Order so long?

There was an annoying sound coming from somewhere in the room. Ron looked around but couldn't find the source. He opened all the drawers, but they were empty. He pulled all the pillows off of his old bed, but nothing was there. It was getting louder and louder, so loud now that Ron could hear nothing but this … _ticking_. It was a clock. It had to be. He walked over to the bed Harry had used and it was louder than ever. Kneeling on the bed, he stuck his hand in the space between the bed and wall. His fingers brushed against something cold and metal. He grabbed it and pulled, bringing it to his ear to investigate, hearing it tick.

Without thinking, he growled and hurled it against the opposite wall, loving the sound the clock made when it smashed to bits.

It was then, as he stood there panting, that he heard someone clear their throat.

He spun around and found Hermione watching him with wide, worried eyes. Great. First, he had punched Harry. Now, he was throwing things around the room. She probably thought he was aggressive and hot-tempered and – well, he _was _those things. And she knew that, too. But Ron had never seen her look at him this way before. She was staring at him as if she didn't know him, as if she was _afraid _of him.

'Hi,' he said awkwardly.

'Hi.'

'Are you okay? What did Audrey say?' asked Ron.

Hermione's eyes softened and she smiled slightly. 'She said that I was okay.' Ron sighed in relief. She walked into the room and sat down on Ron's old bed. 'I still have to go home, though.'

There was a sinking sense of dread in the pit of Ron's stomach. He sat down beside her on the bed, unable to stop thinking about the rest of the summer and how it would feel to not have Hermione there. Harry and Ginny would have each other and he would be bored out of his mind, holed up in his room writing letters to Hermione, working up the courage to tell her everything he would never be able to say to her face.

'Are you sure your parents won't reconsider? I mean, don't they see how much we need you here?'

Hermione shook her head. 'They don't understand what's going on. They don't understand that even though some dangerous things happen from time to time, I'm safer with you than I am with them.' Ron liked the way she said _with you_, as opposed to _with your family _or _with the Order_. 'I asked them again when I showed them to their room … they're going to let me stay until Ginny is safe, but I'm going home first thing in the morning.'

'Damn …' said Ron.

'I know,' said Hermione. 'It doesn't look as if I'll be able to go look for Horcruxes, either.'

'We'll all die without your help, you know. Even Harry won't stand a chance.'

Hermione laughed softly. 'You'll be fine without me. And Harry won't need me at all,' she said. 'He's perfectly capable. He's strong and smart and –'

'He's your bloody hero, I get it,' Ron said irritably. Why was she going on and on about Harry? Couldn't she see that _he _was the one who was hopeless in love with her?

Hermione's head snapped up and she seemed annoyed, but the look on her face quickly dissipated when her eyes met his. 'Harry is a lot of things,' she said slowly, 'but he isn't my hero.'

Ron didn't quite know what to make of that.

'Then who –?'

'Who do you think?'

Honestly, he didn't have a bloody clue what she was talking about.

But then Hermione reached out and rolled one of his sleeves, tracing her fingers lightly over the scars on his arms from their fifth year, and he knew what she meant.

'R-really? But ...'

She wouldn't meet his eyes when she said, 'Don't pretend you didn't know.'

'I –'

He paused when he heard her sob.

'What's wrong?' he asked softly, brushing a tear away with his thumb. Merlin, he hoped he was doing something right. He was rubbish when it came to girls. Lavender had taught him absolutely nothing about this sort of thing.

'I'm such an idiot,' she cried, burying her face in his chest. 'I didn't have my wand! Why wouldn't I carry my wand with me? I could've fought them off … I could've saved her!'

Ron shook his head, though she couldn't see him. How could she blame herself? 'No, you couldn't have. They – they would've taken you, too. If – if you tried to fight them. Or they would have killed you.'

'I just let them take her,' she said. 'I didn't even _try _and –'

'There was nothing you could do!'

'– now you must hate me.'

He stiffened and put his arms around her. 'I don't hate you. I …'

No. No. _No_. Now wasn't the time.

'I don't hate you,' he said weakly.

Ron knew what his feelings for Hermione were. He had known since second year that there was something there. After a long, _long _time of questioning it, he decided to let it be. He would always feel something more for her, but it was only recently that he realized _how much more _he felt for her. Perhaps it had happened over this summer, or the previous summer, or the one before that. Maybe it was in first year, on the train. He would never know.

Hermione was shaking. She cried for several more minutes before she calmed down and her breathing evened out. Ron didn't let go for a long time.

'I should go try to sleep,' she said, pulling away. 'The Order will probably be a while longer and –'

'Sleep here,' Ron said quickly. She gave him a strange look. She wanted to, he could tell. 'You – you shouldn't be alone.'

'My parents are here …'

'My parents are here, too,' he said. 'But I don't care. Besides, you're leaving tomorrow … it's going to be ages before I see you again.'

'My birthday is in a month. And the _second _I turn eighteen, I'll be back at The Burrow,' she vowed.

Ron couldn't describe how good it made him feel to know that Hermione would rather be with his family than hers. He knew, logically, that there was something between them. Something had always been between them. But … it was complicated.

Hermione nodded and stood up. While waiting for Harry to return, hours earlier, Hermione had changed out of her dress and into regular clothes. Ron, unfortunately, hadn't followed suit. He was stuck in the same clothes he had worn to the wedding.

'Do you think Harry will be using the other bed tonight?' Hermione asked.

'No,' said Ron. 'But it doesn't really matter.' He grabbed her hand and pulled her onto his bed. Hermione relaxed against him and if Ron wasn't so anxious to go after Ginny, he would've settled for lying there forever.

……………………………………………………………

'I have obtained a blueprint of Malfoy Manor,' Harry heard McGonagall say. 'And as you will note, there are secret entrances here, here, here, here and here.'

Harry came to the room and stood in the doorway. The Order had their backs to him, staring something on the opposite wall. Tonks shifted on her feet and when her head moved slightly, Harry got a peek at what appeared to be blueprints, up on the wall. There were red circles around the secret entrances. However, as Harry examined them, he couldn't see the room where Ginny was being held. Whoever made these blueprints probably wasn't aware of the dungeons.

'If we sneak around to the back entrances,' Kingsley said, 'then we can –'

'That'll never work,' Harry piped up from the doorway. The Order members spun around to face him, startled.

'What are you doing here, Potter?' asked McGonagall. She appeared to consider this for a moment. 'And what did you say?'

'I said that your plan won't work,' he repeated. 'We can't sneak in. They aren't stupid. Voldemort will have Death Eaters standing guard at all the back entrances.'

'It's our only choice,' said Tonks.

'When I did the Wandering Spell,' he explained, 'I didn't see a single Death Eater roaming around the Manor. I'd be willing to bet that they were all stationed at those entrances, waiting for us to sneak in. They aren't stupid. They know that we're going to do the only logical thing: get a copy of the Manor's blueprints, map out the secret passageways and entrances, and attack.'

Everyone stared at him expectantly.

'What do you propose we do, then?'

'If we want to get into Malfoy Manor, we do exactly as I did,' he said firmly. 'We walk right through the front door.'

……………………………………………………………

'Get up!'

Hermione opened her eyes and sat up. How long had she been asleep? It felt like a few minutes, but it could've only been a few hours.

'We're going! Ron, get up!'

What was Harry talking about? Where were they going?

Oh.

Hermione nudged Ron. 'Ron,' she said. 'It's time to get Ginny.'

Ron's eyes flew open and he was off the bed and down the stairs before Hermione even realized he was awake. Harry gave Hermione an odd look and they followed him, running down the stairs so quickly that Hermione nearly tumbled several times. When she and Harry got to the kitchen, her parents were waiting for them. Wordlessly, Harry went over to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder.

Once they had all safely made it back to The Burrow, Hermione saw that the entire house was filled with witches and wizards.

Was this the Order? Hermione knew that there were more than just the ones working with Harry to find Horcruxes … but were there really _this _many members?

It couldn't be, she reasoned, because Grimmauld Place was the Order's Headquarters. Why would they have to leave and come to The Burrow if they were all Order members?

'I called in favours from a few friends at the Ministry,' Mr Weasley explained.

'So did I,' added Percy.

Hermione knew better than to ask questions now, because Mr Weasley had just subtly warned everyone that many of these people were _not _affiliated with the Order of the Pheonix.

Hermione recognized a few of the Romanian members – Cassi, Anastasia, Dimitri and Ivan. And some of the witches and wizards had been at the wedding earlier today. They were friends of Bill's, ones he had made in Egypt.

'Hermione? What's going on?'

Hermione spun around and saw her parents standing just inside the kitchen of The Burrow, looking around the crowded area with wide eyes.

'They're Muggles,' Mr Weasley announced, excitedly, to the group.

'What's the plan?' asked Ron. 'When're we leaving?'

'You are _not _leaving!' commanded Mrs Weasley.

'They need all the help they can get, Mum,' said Ron. 'I'm seventeen. I'm doing this.'

Mr and Mrs Weasley exchanged looks. To Hermione's amazement, Mrs Weasley's shoulders eventually slumped and she relented, shaking her head and muttering under her breath.

'I have taken the liberty of finding objects around the house and turning them into Portkeys,' said McGonagall. She spoke with a loud, booming voice, once that Hermione had only heard once before – their first day at Hogwarts, when McGonagall explained the Sorting Hat ceremony to them. All eyes were trained on her as she spoke. 'Our destination is the Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. Our goal is to rescue Ginny Weasley, who is being held somewhere inside the Manor. I ask that you do not use force unless it is absolutely necessary. Your emotions are to be kept in check at all times – _this means you_,MrPotter.'

Harry nodded quickly. Hermione shifted, trying to get a better view of McGonagall. It was hard, though, with all the people in the way. Hermione had never been so surrounded in her life. There were far too many people for such a small area. It was … suffocating, to say the least.

'These Portkeys will take us to a safe point, just outside of the Manor's boundaries. As I have already outlined the course of action – and I sincerely hope you all know that stealth and concealment are required at all times – I daresay we are ready to go.'

McGonagall looked at Kingsley, who cleared his throat and drew his wand. 'Right, well, since there are far more of us than I had expected, we'll be going in shifts. Wands ready. Once you arrive at the safe point, start moving toward our destination. But do _not _attack until you receive the signal.'

'What's the signal?' Ron whispered.

Harry shrugged.

As Kingsley divided the Order members, Aurors and other Ministry officials into groups and began handing out Portkeys, Hermione noticed that Harry ran upstairs and came back down with his Invisibility Cloak and something else, which he quickly stuffed inside his robe. Remembering that she didn't have her wand, Hermione tried to make her way upstairs, to retrieve it. She wondered if she should try a Summoning Charm, but then decided it would be too dangerous. Her wand would probably end up poking somebody's eye out on the way to her outstretched hand. Not that there was any room for her to stretch out her arm and hand, anyway.

'And just _where _do you think you're going?'

'To get my wand,' Hermione told her mum.

'Oh, no, I don't think so,' said Mrs Granger. 'You aren't going anywhere. No. I forbid it.'

Large groups of people were leaving via Portkey. There was now room to move around slightly inside the kitchen.

'Mum,' Hermione protested, 'I'm seventeen! I'm of age in the wizarding world, and –'

'Well, it's a shame that I don't follow wizarding law, isn't it?'

'Your mother is right,' Mr Granger said in a tired voice. He seemed bewildered and was still looking around the room as if this was some sort of dream. 'You aren't stepping foot outside of this room unless it's to come home with us. Do you understand?'

Hermione opened her mouth to argue some more but McGonagall answered for her. 'Yes, she does,' said McGonagall. 'Miss Granger, given that your parents _clearly _do not want you accompanying the others, I am forced to put my foot down on the matter.'

'But Professor –'

'Do not argue with me, Miss Granger.'

This wasn't fair! Rage erupted inside of Hermione but there was nothing she could do now. They would all have to go rescue Ginny without her. She knew that they were all more than capable, that she probably wouldn't even contribute very much in the long run … but she couldn't possibly sit around with Mrs Weasley and wait until they returned, could she? It had been absolute murder when she and Ginny were forced to wait for Ron and Harry to return on the Horcrux mission. She couldn't do it again. She _wouldn't _do it again. She would find some way to help. She'd go crazy with worry if she was forced to sit around and wait.

Kingsley was sending groups every minute and a half. After ten minutes, the room was nearly cleared out. The only people left were Ron, Harry, Kingsley, Tonks, Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, Cassi, Seb, Percy and several wizards who Hermione didn't recognize. They all said their goodbyes, though Mrs Weasley didn't seem too keen to let Ron leave.

'Ron ... please don't go,' pleaded Mrs Weasley. 'I can't ... I can't have all of you out there.'

Ron shook his head. 'I have to, Mum. This is _Ginny_ we're talking about. I can't stay behind on this one.'

'But –'

'Those bastards took my sister,' he said darkly. Hermione didn't like the look on his face. She had seen it only a few times throughout their six years of friendship, and whenever he got like this … things didn't turn out well. 'And now, they're going to pay for what they've done to her. I'm going whether you like it or not. We can either stand here arguing for another hour, or you can accept that I'm leaving and maybe we'll get to Ginny before something bad happens.'

Mrs Weasley let a few tears escape her eyes but nodded and hugged him. 'I love you _so_ much, Ronnie.'

'Love you, Mum.'

Mr Weasley was next to hug Ron. 'I'm proud of you, son. Be careful. You-Know-Who … he might be there.'

Ron nodded, and Hermione was amazed by how unafraid he appeared. 'I know.'

Hermione saw her own mother stiffen. She'd only given her parents a few, vague details about Voldemort but her mother had picked up a ton of horrifying facts about him in the short time that they had been at Headquarters. She now knew all about "You-Know-Who" and the things he had done. In a way, Hermione knew that she couldn't blame her mother for not wanting her to go rescue Ginny. But it didn't make watching everyone else leave any easier to take.

Ron turned away from his parents and began walking toward Harry and the others, who were waiting by the Portkey. Suddenly, he stopped and turned back around. 'One more thing ...'

He marched over to Hermione, pulled her toward him, and kissed her – _really_ kissed her. She stood in shock for a moment before reacting. She put her hands on his cheeks and pulled him closer. This was … _wow_. She didn't know what made Ron do it, but Merlin, she was glad that he did. The small portion of her brain that was still capable of forming coherent thoughts vaguely wondered why they hadn't done this sooner. But then, she had always known that this was a long time coming.

The kiss was hurried and intense. They were putting everything into it: everything they couldn't say or apologize for saying, everything they couldn't do or apologize for doing. Her lips said she was sorry and her tongue said she loved him. Her touch said to be careful, to come back to her.

She was somewhat aware of the fact that she was standing in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, in front of Harry, her parents, the Weasleys, Professor McGonagall and a few Order members, snogging Ron. And she didn't care.

It was entirely possible that Ron might not come back. Hermione realized this sometime during their embrace. This was their first _real _kiss, and it could also be their last. Hermione wasn't going to let anyone interrupt it. Voldemort would have to wait, because she was kissing Ron, and she wouldn't pull away to save her own life.

After what felt like an eternity, but seemed much too short, Ron pulled away.

'I've wanted to do that since I was fourteen,' he said quietly.

He smiled and walked to the Portkey.

She suddenly knew what Ginny had meant during their talk, weeks ago. Ginny was sneaking around with Harry because she didn't want to waste any more time and lose out on the opportunity. Hermione had thought that Ginny was crazy, that Ginny was acting like a … well, like a bit of a _slag_. Hermione hadn't been able to understand back then, but she understood now. She understood Ginny's desperation, the overwhelming fear that started out in the pit of her stomach but quickly spread throughout her entire body. Ron, like Harry, was going out to battle. Hermione, like Ginny, didn't know if the one she loved would be coming back. Ginny had been forced to stay behind during their adventures, and now Hermione was the one missing out. Hermione was the one who would sit at home and feel helpless and inadequate until everyone returned safely. Ginny had been right on the mark about everything. Hermione just hadn't known it at the time.

She hated herself for wasting time. She hated herself for not saying something sooner, for letting stupid fights and drama come between her and Ron. It wasn't worth it. Nothing had been worth it.

And Ginny had been right about one other thing, too: it _did_ suck to feel this way.

'I'm coming with you,' Hermione said instantly.

'No, you aren't,' her mother interjected.

'This is bigger than you realize, Mum!' cried Hermione. 'They need all the help they can get! I'm going.'

'No, you aren't,' said Ron.

'You can't tell me what to do,' snapped Hermione.

'I just did,' Ron said quietly.

Hermione gritted her teeth, her eyes filling with tears. 'Don't you dare end it like this! Don't you _dare _try to make me mad at you, Ron!'

'Sorry,' he whispered.

'Let me come with you.'

'No.'

'Please ... I can't stay behind,' Hermione pleaded.

'You have to, Hermione.'

'Then you have to stay, too.' She grabbed his arm. If Ron couldn't get her to let go, and he took the Portkey, she'd probably be pulled along with him. He either went with her, or he stayed behind with her. It was that simple.

'Let me go,' Ron said firmly.

'No,' she said stubbornly. 'I won't stay behind, not while you're out there.'

'I'll come back. I promise.'

'What if you don't?'

'You once told me that we'd all be together until we were old and grey,' Ron said softly. 'And you said that if –'

'That was a load of shite, Ron!' Hermione argued, surprising even herself when she cursed. 'I didn't know what I was talking about back then. I was an idiot!'

Ron smiled and put his lips to her ear. 'I love you,' he breathed.

Hermione let go of his arm in shock. 'What?'

Someone began counting to three. 'We'll talk when I get back,' Ron promised, reaching out to touch the Portkey.

They disappeared.

And Hermione didn't get to say it back.

……………………………………………………………

It was dark and Harry didn't have a bloody clue where he was. The air around him was hot, but he could feel only chills as he walked, only to be greeted by more and more darkness.

Ron was beside him – but then, when _wasn't _Ron beside him?

Hermione was back at The Burrow. Her parents weren't letting her come along. In a way, Harry knew that this was good. He and Ron were willing to die on this mission but Hermione shouldn't have to be. Hermione shouldn't have to make a decision like that. Not for Ginny or Harry, not even for Ron.

And after everything that had happened today – every terrible, heart-wrenching thing – Harry was able to smile, because Ron and Hermione were going to be okay.

Harry knew now, at least, that his best friends would have each other if he didn't make it through the war. He knew that Ron was too stubborn to let anything bad happen to Hermione, and Hermione was too smart to let anything bad happen to Ron.

The walk was long and the hill was steep, but Harry wouldn't let himself give up. He kept climbing. He ignored the pain in his legs, the pain in his jaw. Audrey had given him a Deflating Potion that had taken care of the swelling, but it hadn't helped with the soreness at all.

Who knew Ron had such a strong right hook?

Harry and Ron had fought many times before, and Harry hoped there would be many more to come … but they were normally on the same side. And they normally used wands. Whether battling Malfoy or Death Eaters, they had always stood united.

But Harry didn't mind that Ron had hit him. Harry knew that he deserved a whole lot more than that.

He wondered if his and Ron's kids would be best friends, someday.

In his fantasy (the one Harry thought up as he stole through the darkness toward Malfoy Manor), Ron and Hermione would be married. Harry, of course, would be married to Ginny. Ron would have a big family – seven kids. _My own personal Quidditch team_, Ron would say with a laugh. And their house would have a huge library and a ton of Muggle things, because Hermione would insist upon it, and Ron would know better than to argue.

Harry hadn't decided how many children he and Ginny would have. He would put up with _ten_ or would even settle for _one_, if it was what Ginny would want. They would live in a nice house – cozy like The Burrow but bigger … though not large and frightening like Malfoy Manor.

Harry was crazy. He knew that blokes didn't normally think about things like that, especially at seventeen … but Harry's mind did something funny when it was faced with the fact that tomorrow might never come. It made him _want _to think about tomorrow, about the next day and the day after that.

Besides, he needed something to distract him from the pain in his jaw.

Harry couldn't wait to get that signal. He was worried about Ginny and now, on top of everything, he was exhausted from the walk. He just wanted to attack and get the bloody hell out of there.

He had no idea what the signal was, though. Lupin had said that when the signal was given, Harry and the others would be able to tell … whatever that meant.

Harry had sat in on the rest of the meeting, when McGonagall outlined the basic plan of action. He knew what he was doing. But Ron didn't. Harry would have to remember to stick by his friend. There was going to be no room for error on this mission.

'Just a bit longer,' Lupin whispered.

Merlin, how much land did Lucius Malfoy own? The Portkeys they had taken brought them right to the edge of the Manor's boundaries. This was ridiculous! They had been walking for fifteen minutes, Harry reckoned.

From somewhere to Harry's right, Fred cursed.

'Hey, Ron …' said Harry as they stalked through the darkness.

'Yeah, mate?'

'If … if something happens,' Harry whispered, 'you have to tell Ginny something for me, okay?'

'No. Tell her yourself.'

'Ron –'

'Fine,' said Ron. 'But you have to tell Hermione the same for me.'

Harry didn't bother asked Ron what he would want Harry to tell Hermione. He knew, just as Ron knew what Harry would want Ginny to know.

Harry grinned. 'That was quite the show you put on,' he said, so quietly that he barely even heard his own words, as they forged ahead.

'Yeah, well … shut up.'

Harry could tell that Ron was smiling.

……………………………………………………………

'Hermione –'

'I hate you for this,' Hermione whispered. 'I hope you know that.'

Mrs Granger inhaled sharply but said nothing. Hermione knew that her mother didn't believe her. But it was _true_. If something happened and Hermione wasn't there to … well, she would never forgive her mother if that was the case.

What was going on with Ron right now? Where was he? Was he battling? Had he even reached the Manor yet?

'I'm going to go see if Audrey needs any help,' she said, as coldly as she could manage, before walking away from her mother.

Just outside the kitchen, a room had been cleared out. Close to a dozen Healers were in the room, scurrying around, as if they were expecting many injured people to come through in the next few hours. Hermione didn't like the uneasy feeling creeping into her stomach at this thought.

The Healers were shifting through first aid kits and setting different coloured potions out on a long, narrow table provided by Mrs Weasley. Hermione recognized Audrey, Earl and Valerica – the Romanian Healer she met briefly while at Romanian Headquarters – but the other Healers were strangers to her.

'Is there anything I can do?' asked Hermione.

Audrey nodded and beckoned her over.

Hermione sighed. This was going to be a long night.

……………………………………………………………

The signal had been given and Harry identified it immediately, as did Ron and the others. And they did exactly what Harry had said to do – they stormed right through the front door.

Well, Harry did, at least.

In hindsight, Harry noted that it would've been smart to wake Ron before the strategy had been made. Before attacking, Harry had briefly explained that Ron was to ignore the other rescue teams, who were instructed to sneak around to the back entrances and do anything possible to create a diversion and hold off as many Death Eaters as they could for as long as possible. Harry, Ron, Bill, Charlie, Cassi, Kingsley and Tonks weren't following that plan. They were the real rescuers – they were the ones who went _inside _Malfoy Manor, down to the dungeon, to retrieve Ginny.

Things didn't exactly happen that way.

Most of the Death Eaters were, as Harry had predicted, standing guard at the back entrances. But Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, Dolohov, Nott, Goyle, Crabbe, Macnair and Snape were waiting at the front doors for them. And damn it, so was _Draco _Malfoy.

'Potter,' sneered the younger Malfoy. 'It's about time you showed up.'

Harry couldn't agree more. Gripping his wand tightly in one hand, he was more than ready to do what he'd wanted to do since last June – murder Draco.

'You're looking better than the last time I saw you,' Harry snarled back. 'You remember … the night you had _him _do your dirty work for you,' Harry said, pointing his wand at Snape but not taking his eyes off of Draco.

Draco paled.

'Where the bloody hell is Ginny?' demanded Harry. 'What did you with to her?'

'She's dead,' Lestrange said coolly.

Harry's heart stopped. 'No, she isn't,' he argued.

'Oh, I think she is. It turns out your little girlfriend can't hold up under torture as well as one might expect.'

She couldn't be dead. Harry would know if she was. She _couldn't _be dead, because then Harry would be dead, too. He had lived through the death of his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore and so many others. But _Ginny _… he couldn't do it. She wasn't dead. He wouldn't let her be dead.

'My _girlfriend_,' Harry said boldly, 'is stronger than you think. And she isn't dead. So step aside, before I make you step aside.'

Lestrange laughed.

'You dare threaten me?'

'Yes. I dare.'

Ron coughed.

'Leave him for the Dark Lord,' Snape barked when Lestrange pointed her wand directly at Harry.

'Oh, by all means,' said Harry, hoping he was coming off more confident than he felt, 'take your best shot. Your bloody leader couldn't take me out, what makes you think _you'll _be able to?'

Lestrange inhaled sharply but didn't attempt to curse Harry.

'I suppose it's for the best, though,' continued Harry. 'Voldemort would look no better than _Malfoy _if he had to have someone else kill for him.'

Malfoy went to charge but his father restrained him.

'Do not speak the Dark Lord's name!' yelled Dolohov.

Harry laughed in their faces.

'I think I'm going to go … _check _on Weaselbee,' Draco said teasingly. 'I sure hope nothing happens to her. I'd hate for her to suffer because _you _provoked me.'

But Harry didn't flinch. Malfoy, ever the idiot, had just given away the most valuable piece of information: Ginny was still alive, despite what Lestrange said. 'I doubt that she'll suffer,' he spat. 'I've seen you in action. Although being in your presence _is _a sort of torture, I suppose.'

Draco shot Harry one of the dirtiest looks Harry had ever seen and backed away slowly.

'Stop,' said Snape. 'You stay here. I will go check on Weasley.'

'But –'

'Listen to him, Draco,' said Lucius Malfoy. Draco sighed in frustration but didn't protest as Snape disappeared from sight, taking the same route Harry had taken while under the Wandering Spell.

If Snape hurt Ginny – Harry would kill him.

_No_, Harry would kill Snape regardless. But if he hurt Ginny, Harry would make sure there was a nice round of torture beforehand.

Harry did the only thing he could think of – he stalled. He was in no rush to start firing hexes at the Death Eaters. No … it would be best to wait until Snape came back, so Harry would be able to gauge what had been happening with Ginny.

Shite. Harry had to close his mind, or Snape would be able to read it when he returned. He had probably been reading it since Harry walked in. But wait – didn't Snape need to maintain eye contact in order to do that? Harry mentally sighed in relief. Maybe he had gotten lucky.

His eyes flicked over to Kingsley very quickly, as if trying to decide what to do next. When the man didn't appear to be too unsettled by Harry's stalling tactics, Harry decided to continue.

'So …' he said. 'I must say, I'm rather surprised. There are seven of us and only eight of you – nine, if you count Draco … although _I _certainlydon't. Where are the rest of your pals? Normally, you outnumber us ten to one. It's the only way you even stand a chance, after all.'

'Why you little –'

There was a scream. It was a high-pitched, echoing sound. Ginny.

Harry tensed, though not as much as Ron, Bill and Charlie did. He knew the sound of Ginny's screams. He had heard them when he did the Wandering Spell. They were a _good _thing, in a way. If she was screaming, she wasn't dead.

'Like that, do you?' taunted Lestrange. 'Yes, that sound has been rather common around here today. Even with the shields we've put up, you can still here the Weasley's screams all the way up here. She must be in an awful lot of pain.'

'SHUT UP!'

Harry nudged Ron hard in the side.

The time was coming. Harry could feel it. He wouldn't be able to hold Ron off for much longer. He wouldn't be able to hold _himself _off for much longer.

……………………………………………………………

'Now,' Snape muttered.

Mustering all of her strength, Ginny tossed her head back and screamed.

'Again.'

Ginny screamed again, squeezing her fists in concentration. This needed to sound real or else Snape would get in trouble and there would be no hope for Ginny.

Where was Harry? Wasn't he coming for her? He was supposed to _love _her, but he wouldn't even _try _to save her?

'Potter is upstairs,' Snape said automatically. Ginny gasped. Snape was reading her mind. Had he been doing it this whole time?

Wait, Harry was upstairs? But she was … well, she wasn't sure where she was. She knew it wasn't upstairs, though. How would he get to her?

'He knows everything,' said Snape. 'He will be able to find you.'

'How?' Ginny whispered. For once, Snape shrugged in reply. 'How am I going to get out?'

'The same way we discussed before,' he said. 'Don't tell me you've forgotten, you silly girl.'

'Of course I haven't,' she said quickly. 'But if I do this … what about you? Won't they know?'

'Potter is … strong,' Snape said, his voice heavy with great displeasure. 'He is stronger than before. And he is only getting stronger.'

'What does that mean?' Ginny asked.

'Never mind what it means,' Snape insisted, growing impatient. 'Do you remember what I have instructed you to do?'

'Yes.'

'Do you remember what you promised, in return for me helping you?'

She hesitated.

'_Do you remember_?'

'Yes,' she whispered. 'But Harry will –'

'I am aware,' he said curtly. He pointed his wand at Ginny and the invisible ropes around her arms and legs must have fallen away, because she was free. Ginny struggled before finally standing up, wincing at the pain that shot through her limbs as she did so. The Cruciatus Curse was more painful than she had imagined, but the aftereffects were nearly as bad. She expected that she wouldn't be able to move painlessly for another week – maybe even two. She wondered if she would be able to get out of the Manor and knew that if she wouldn't make it if she had to run.

'Thank you.'

'Once more ought to do the trick,' Snape said, ignoring her. Ginny nodded and screamed. 'This is in your hands now. Wait for the signal. Then get into position.'

Ginny nodded.

Her neck hurt, too.

……………………………………………………………

As the rest of the Death Eaters and members of the rescue crew battled, all hell breaking loose around him, Harry ran straight into the crowd. When he was sure that everyone was immersed in their own battles and no longer paying attention to him, Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and threw it around himself. Safe under its protection, he weaved in and out of people, running down corridors and through various rooms, down flights of stairs. Finally, just as he began to wonder if he was going in circles, he found what he was looking for.

And the door was opened.

Harry could've dropped to his knees and kissed the dirty floor. The door was open! Snape, the bloody idiot, must've forgotten to close it after he finished with Ginny.

He ran into the room and found only Ginny inside, slumped against the wall. He was vaguely aware that she was in a different spot than she had been when he did the Wandering Spell, but disregarded it. Was she conscious?

He threw the Invisibility Cloak off of him and fell to his knees beside her.

'Ginny,' he said, struggling to keep his voice quiet.

Ginny's eyes shot open. 'Harry,' she said. Her voice sounded hoarse, as if she had a bad cold. Harry attributed it to the amount of screaming she had probably done and shuddered.

'C'mon,' he whispered. 'We need to get you out of here.' Remembering something, he reached into his robes and pulled out her wand. 'Take this. It's crazy up there. You'll need it.'

Ginny grabbed it and he helped her stand, trying to be as careful as possible. She was moving stiffly, as if her entire body was in extreme pain. He studied her and saw no cuts or bruises, which meant only one thing: the Cruciatus Curse.

He couldn't keep quiet any longer. He had to know.

'What did Snape do to you?' he asked as he led her down one of the corridors.

Ginny sighed and wouldn't look at him. 'Harry, no, he –' she stopped and made a sobbing sound. 'He tortured me,' she whispered. 'It was awful.'

She sobbed again and Harry wanted to comfort her. The sounds of battle were getting louder and he was reminded of what he had to do. He handed her the Invisibility Cloak and she wrapped it around herself, disappearing before his eyes.

They made it back upstairs, taking slightly longer than it had taken Harry to get down to the dungeons. Ginny was wincing but moving as quickly as she could. Harry wanted nothing more than to pick her up and run with her, but knew that he couldn't. She had to stay under the Invisibility Cloak until they were safely outside of the Manor.

He didn't want to leave her but knew that he had to. It was the only way they would both stand a chance of making it out alive.

……………………………………………………………

'You're coming home with us,' said Mrs Granger. 'As soon as possible. Nothing has changed. We'll leave tonight, if this whole thing wraps up at a reasonable hour.'

Hermione didn't appreciate the things her mother was saying, nor did she appreciate the tone she said them in. She sounded bored. She sounded as if "this whole thing" was a Muggle video game or movie.

'This is real!' screamed Hermione, unable to take anymore. 'Ginny was _really _taken and my best friends _really _went after her, Mum! This isn't a joke!'

'Apologize to your mother,' Mr Granger ordered.

'I'm sorry,' she spat. 'I'm sorry that you don't care about my friends. I'm sorry that you don't care about _me_!'

'Of course we care about you!'

'Then why are you trying to take me away from the Weasleys?' asked Hermione, her voice breaking slightly. 'This is my home now. I belong here, with them.'

'You swore to us,' said Mrs Granger. 'When we agreed to let you go to Hogwarts, it was under the condition that you wouldn't forget about our world! And not only have you forgotten about your roots, but you've forgotten about _us_.'

'I'm not going to fight with you,' Hermione said. 'Not now, when we're all dealing with so many things. I'm not going to make in scene.'

Mrs Granger sniffed.

'You're still coming home with us,' she mumbled.

……………………………………………………………

He was battling Mulciber when it happened.

'_Protego_!' he cried. He put his shield up just in time to stop the spell from hitting him.

A flash of red appeared before him. _Ginny_ appeared before him.

She was supposed to be under the Invisibility Cloak! What in the name of Merlin was she doing?

'_Weasley_!' he heard Lestrange cry. It was as if everyone stopped battling, stopped moving, stopped breathing. It was as if everyone was watching Lestrange. 'Has the little rat gotten out of her cage? Hmm … I suppose a cage can't hold you anymore. Perhaps I can do you one better.'

Lestrange pointed her wand at Ginny and he knew what he had to do.

He had known for a while now that he would do it, if faced with the situation. Honestly, he'd known since he was eleven that it was a possibility. He just hadn't ever admitted it to himself. He had tried not to let himself think about it before. He had mentioned it here and there, but he had never _really _believed that it would come to this.

And now, it was up to him to … to … oh, Merlin.

But he couldn't be afraid. He had to save Ginny. Ginny … she had to live. The world would be such an awful place without people like her in it. But everyone would be fine without him. They had to be.

Better him than Ginny, right?

He was doing this for the entire wizarding world – and the Muggle world, too. He was doing it for Ginny and for Hermione … for everyone.

He was frozen in fear for several moments. Then he heard Lestrange mutter a spell – one he had never heard before – and something inside of him snapped. It was now or never.

He threw himself in front of Ginny and took the blast.

……………………………………………………………

Time seemed to move in slow motion as he watched Lestrange point her wand at Ginny. He watched as his best mate jumped in front of her and disappeared into thin air. He screamed out his friend's name but it was no use.

_Ron was gone._

That thought repeated over and over in Harry's brain as he gripped his wand, not caring what hex he threw or where it ended up.

_Ron was gone and they would never see him again._

His wand just wasn't doing the trick. Harry no longer wanted to Stun the Death Eaters. He wanted to _kill _the Death Eaters for what they had done to Ron, to Ginny, to everyone in the world who was good and didn't deserve the bad things that happened to them.

_Ron was gone and it had almost been Ginny._

Harry lost sight of Ginny, and for once, he couldn't bring himself to care. All he could focus on was the feeling in the pit of his stomach, the feeling that was making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

_Ron was gone and it was Harry's fault._

His scar prickled. His skin crawled. His temperature rose to an almost unbearable level. His stomach churned. His fingertips itched.

_Ron was gone and now Mrs Weasley only had six children._

This time, Harry knew it was coming. Harry knew that he was going to do more wandless magic. He could sense the feelings building up inside – they were more intense than they had ever felt before. This was even more intense than the feeling he got earlier today, when he had done this sort of magic at the wedding.

_Ron was gone and Harry had promised Ron that he'd give Hermione the message._

Harry gasped at the newfound power that exploded deep inside of him. It was as if every pore in his body was opened and he suddenly felt so dizzy, so tired from his exertion.

He wanted to sleep, and maybe he did, because the next thing he was aware of was Lupin crouching over him, calling his name. He opened his eyes and knew that he must have blacked out, because he didn't remember closing his eyes and he certainly didn't remember falling to the floor.

But did it matter?

_Ron was gone._

……………………………………………………………

'It's been an hour and twenty five minutes,' Mrs Weasley announced.

Hermione wished she would stop doing that. Every five minutes, Mrs Weasley announced how long the rescue groups had been gone. Hermione didn't care if it had been an hour or a year. Every _second_ felt like an eternity.

And something wasn't right. She had started sensing it about twenty minutes ago. Yes, it had to have been twenty minutes ago. Hermione knew because she remembered Mrs Weasley saying, 'It's been an hour and five minutes,' right after the feeling arose in her stomach.

The sense of dread that had coiled so tightly inside of her had relaxed significantly. She felt … unafraid and full of hope. She felt _free_. She was flying. She was weightless and powerful and … mortal. She felt destructible, and that was something that should frighten her, but it only made her feel at peace and humbled.

She now knew why people took risks. She knew why Muggles jumped out of airplanes with nothing but a parachute strapped to their backs. She knew why Ron and Harry and Ginny loved flying so much.

It was because of _this _feeling.

She sat there, marveling in this newfound understanding, until they heard a strange sound coming from outside. She knew that everyone was back. Jumping to her feet, Hermione exchanged a look with Mrs Weasley and sucked in a big gulp of air, though she knew she wouldn't need it.

She knew that they had rescued Ginny. She knew this because there was no way Harry would have left, or let anyone else leave, without her.

Tons of people flooded into The Burrow (already, however, Hermione could tell that there were less people coming back than there should have been). Hermione stood on her toes, looking for flaming red hair. Most of these people were injured, Hermione realized, because they were all going directly toward the stations the Healers had set up to tend to victims.

As the crowd thinned out, Hermione was able to spot Harry. He was wandering, almost aimlessly. His eyes were cold and hollow. Ginny was in his arms, looking tired and weak and more childlike than ever before. She was crying – _sobbing_, really – and Hermione wondered how much the girl had been through to make her cry like that. Fred and George were standing on either side of Harry, their expressions blank. Everything about Percy's demeanor was all wrong. He didn't carry himself the way he used to when Hermione had known him. His shoulders were slumped and his head was hung low as he trudged in behind Harry. Bill and Charlie were behind Percy, their faces the absolute definition of defeat. Hermione didn't understand why. She wanted to shout, to tell them that Ginny was in Harry's arms and that she was safe again. They didn't seem to notice. Hermione surveyed the Weasley boys again, wondering what was going on. These were not the faces of people who had just rescued their sister.

Mrs Weasley ran over and immediately began fussing.

It was only then – when Mrs Weasley said _his _name and Hermione suddenly realized that she hadn't seen _him _yet – that everyone noted the absence of a certain Weasley.

Hermione would never know why she hadn't noticed it right away. She would never know how she hadn't managed to put two and two together the second everyone walked in. She would never know why, even after she figured out what must have happened to _him_, the feeling of calm hadn't left her, but had intensified somewhat.

But she didn't care.

And she doubted very much that she would care about anything ever again.

The only thing that mattered was that Ron hadn't come back.

……………………………………………………………

**I adore Ronald Weasley. Rest assured, he is very much alive.**

**So sorry that this took a long time to be posted, but was acting weird and wouldn't let me sign in at all on the weekend, and to top it off, my power went off on Monday, but once it came back, I spent the day editing and tweaking this chapter. Although the content is rather depressing and the wait was long – too long – I hope that the length of this chapter makes up for it.**


	21. The Heartbreak

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Twenty-One: The Heartbreak  
**……………………………………………………………

Harry set Ginny down on her feet. If Ron wasn't in the forefront of his mind, he would've noticed that he still felt faint from his exertion at the Manor or, more importantly, the fact that Ginny wasn't meeting his eyes.

'Where is he?' whispered Hermione. Harry hated himself because he hadn't been able to stop Lestrange from taking Ron. He hated himself because he didn't know _what _had happened to Ron, and he didn't know _what _to tell Mrs Weasley. But mostly, he hated himself because he couldn't look at Hermione. He was afraid of what he would see in her eyes if he did.

Bill was the first to speak. 'He …' said Bill. 'He wasn't killed,' he said quickly, and Ginny inhaled sharply. 'But he's gone. He was … taken.'

'What do you mean?' asked Hermione, her voice rising with each word. 'What happened to Ron?'

Ginny hiccupped and collapsed into Harry's arms again. Harry finally found the courage to pull his gaze up from the floor and look at Hermione. She looked … lost. As if she didn't understand what was happening. As if she didn't know what to believe. Harry wanted to sit down and tell her, to explain everything, but he couldn't. He was afraid that if he spoke, he would break down. And then who would be strong for everyone? All of the Weasleys were crying or close to it. Even Bill and Charlie had tears in their eyes.

Tonks was crying, too. Lupin was holding her. Harry couldn't see his face, but Lupin looked as if he could be mourning as well.

Mr and Mrs Weasley were holding each other. Ginny had Harry. Lupin had Tonks. Even the Grangers had each other. Who did Hermione have?

She used to have Ron. Where was Ron now?

Harry's heart broke for her. If it was him, if Ginny had been the one who disappeared, he would be assuming the worst. He would be going crazy, because he would think that Ginny was … dead.

Harry shuddered.

Was Ron dead?

_Hmm … I suppose a cage can't hold you anymore._

The words Lestrange said before doing her spell echoed in Harry's mind.

_Perhaps I can do you one better._

She was ruthless. And there wasn't a doubt in Harry's mind that she would've found a way to convince Voldemort that Ginny was useless. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she would've found a way to get permission to kill Ginny.

But instead of getting Ginny, she had gotten Ron.

Hermione must've shared Harry's pessimistic mindset, because she began taking shallow breaths and shaking her head, now staring pointedly at the floor. Harry knew the exact moment that everything sunk in, for it was the moment that Hermione lost the colour from her face. And when she raised her eyes to his, seeking confirmation – because only Harry, after all the three of them had been through, could give her this – and he nodded tragically, her eyes suddenly seemed so much colder. Harry knew, right then, that he would never see her eyes dance again. He could just _feel _it.

Hermione leaned against the wall, shutting her eyes, slowly sinking to the floor. The tears did not start slowly. They came quickly, almost instantaneously, and she shook with the force of them. Her grieving was soundless and yet somehow louder, more obvious than anything Harry had ever witnessed before. She overpowered Mr and Mrs Weasley. She overpowered Ginny and all of Ginny's brothers.

Harry had never felt so strongly about her before. She was his best friend – his sister. And it literally tore him apart to see her this way. He wanted to go to her, to tell her that this was all a bad dream … that everything would be okay and Ron would be there when she woke up, but he couldn't. He didn't know if things would be okay. Truthfully, he hated himself because he didn't think that they would be. And he couldn't lie. Not to her. Not about this.

Hermione was on all fours now, her forehead flat against the cold floor and her fists pounding against it in what would have been an obnoxious display, had it been anyone else. Instead, it was quite the opposite. Harry felt as though he was intruding on something, as if he and the others were interrupting a private moment of Hermione's. As morbid as it sounded, he wanted to leave the room and leave Hermione alone to cry, and he might have if Ginny hadn't gone slack in his arms.

Mrs Granger pushed through the people and dropped onto her knees, attempting to wrap her arms around her daughter. But Hermione wouldn't have it. She pushed her mother away and half-yelled, half-sobbed, 'THIS IS YOUR FAULT!'

Mrs Weasley, who had broken out of Mr Weasley's tight embrace, went over to the fallen girl. Hermione clutched her tightly and the two women cried together on the floor as Mr Granger wrapped his arm around his wife and muttered something to her about how their daughter needed "her people" right now.

Harry didn't know when, or even _if_, he would ever see his friend's smiling face again. He didn't know if Ron would ever come back. He didn't know if Ron was still alive, or if Lestrange had done away with him immediately after realizing that she had nabbed the wrong Weasley.

Harry was feeling far too many emotions to let any particular one out. He just stood there, hanging onto Ginny with everything he had, as if she too would disappear. It could have been her. It almost was her. But Ron saved her. He was a hero. And if Ron didn't come back … then someday, when they were ready to hear it, Harry would tell Hermione and Mrs Weasley exactly what had happened to Ron.

……………………………………………………………

Harry couldn't remember going to Grimmauld Place, but he knew he must have, for he was now sitting on the cold, hard floor that he had known so well in the summer before his fifth year.

Ginny had been checked out by Audrey, who said she would need to go to St Mungo's, but Ginny mumbled something about not leaving her family and despite Harry's concern for her well-being, he found himself nodding in agreement and carrying her upstairs.

It had been six hours since they returned from the Manor and there was still no word on Ron. They hadn't given up – not by a long shot – but Harry could feel some of the hope slipping away with every tick of the clock overhead. Harry knew that a part of them all had potentially died that night, along with Ron.

They had all wandered throughout the house, throwing things, crying, cursing and crying some more, until Hermione, Harry and the Weasley children wound up in the drawing room.

Hermione was sitting in a chair absentmindedly playing with two chess pieces, looking at them lovingly. She was hiccupping, having only stopped crying a few minutes ago. Harry hadn't known it was possible to cry as much as she had that night. Ginny was lying on the floor facing up at the ceiling, eyes closed and breathing erratic. Fred and George were huddled in a corner, occasionally throwing out things like 'remember when we teased him for making prefect?' or 'what about the time we pestered him about that Brown girl?' followed by a series of curses and dirty names, all directed at themselves. Percy sat alone in a corner, isolated from everyone, his head in his hands. Charlie was still pounding his fists into the walls and throwing books – a true testament to Hermione's grief, in that she did not stop him from such a heinous act. Bill was fidgeting in his seat, occasionally getting up to pace the room, never remaining still for more than a second as if the news of Ron would hurt more if he stayed stationary.

Mr and Mrs Weasley were downstairs, being comforted by Lupin, Tonks and McGonagall, who stayed behind when the other Order members and Ministry workers departed from the Weasley house after offering their sympathy and promising that they would do everything they could to locate Ron. Fleur was also downstairs, doing her best to not intrude on any personal family time, as she had still not managed to become a true Weasley, as Harry and Hermione had.

Harry sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, thinking of his best friend. His head was swimming with images he did not want to see, thoughts he did not want to think. He could picture Ron on the train to Hogwarts during first year, holding his mum's sandwiches and stared at Harry with awe. He could hear Ron's irritable voice as he called Hermione 'a nightmare' and see his face when he found out Ginny was the one dragged into the Chamber of Secrets. He saw Ron with Scabbers on the night he turned into Peter Pettigrew, and the way he stood up to Sirius, back when they thought he was a cold-blooded murderer. He saw Ron underwater during the Triwizard challenge, he heard Ron yelling '_Accio brain!_' at the Department of Mysteries. Every time he closed his eyes, Ron was playing chess or desperately trying to protect the rings during Quidditch. Every time Charlie ceased throwing books or hitting something and it became ghostly quiet in the room, he could hear Ron rowing with Hermione or laughing or telling Harry, as they stood mere feet away from Dumbledore's tomb, '_We're with you whatever happens_.'

Whatever happens ... none of them could've ever predicted what would happen to Ron when he made that statement. Nobody would've imagined that Lestrange would mutter some strange spell that none of them had ever heard before, and direct it at Ginny. Nobody would've foreseen that Ron would jump in front of his baby sister and get hit with the spell instead, causing a ton of smoke and dust to fly into the air. Nobody would've guessed that when everything settled, both Lestrange and Ron would have disappeared into thin air.

His scar was hurting again – searing, really – and Harry felt a pressure in his head, soreness in his limbs, an aching in his very soul.

Suddenly, he remembered something that he hadn't before.

'_Have you gotten one?'_

'_Yes, my Lord. It ... it has been taken care of. You can always count on me.'_

Harry gasped when he suddenly detected something in his mind, something that should not have been there. Harry wasn't remembering. His scar gave a particularly painful throb and he could feel happiness – Voldemort's happiness – flare up inside of him. He was connected to Voldemort more now than ever, and for whatever reason, he was accidentally seeing what was happening on the other side. Harry knew that this had its advantages. But he bit his lip hard – so hard that he could taste blood – and focused on clearing his mind. He could not afford Voldemort entering his mind now. He was too vulnerable. He would not be able to fight Voldemort off.

_It has been taken care of._

Ron was dead. Harry knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Lestrange would never lie to Voldemort. And if she would, Voldemort would see right through her in a second. Ron must have been dead.

Harry wanted to die. He wanted to grab everything he could reach – it all belonged to _him_, after all – and smash it into tiny pieces. He wanted to kick and scream and cry for his dead friend, who had so admirably sacrificed himself for Ginny. He wanted to forget everything he had to do – all the plans and arrangements he needed to make, all the Horcruxes he still needed to find – and just settle the score once and for all. He wanted to find Voldemort and Lestrange, and kill them both with his bare hands.

But he could not do any of this. Mostly because he would only make a bigger mess of things, but also because his body was betraying him. All he could really do was sit there and stare into space, trying to pinpoint exactly _when _he had sealed his best friend's fate.

Was it when he didn't order him to stay behind on the mission to rescue Ginny, or was it at Dumbledore's funeral, when he didn't insist that he battle alone? Could it have been even earlier than that, on the train during first year, when they met? Had it been then? Was that when Harry should've realized that he was making his best friend a target and should have turned back, should have turned away from Ron?

What would Professor Dumbledore think if he could see Harry now? He would think that Harry had failed, that _he _had failed _Harry_.

Harry suddenly wanted to return to Hogwarts and see Dumbledore's portrait. He needed to speak with his former Headmaster, to ask if Ron was really dead and if so, whether or not he was at peace.

Because, really, that was the most important thing.

'How can you be so composed?' Hermione whispered. Harry summoned all his energy and turned to look at her. She was staring at him through puffy red eyes, still shaking.

'Dunno,' said Harry stoically. 'I guess I'm used to losing everyone who actually means something to me,' he whispered bitterly.

'Well I'm not!' Ginny mumbled, still on the ground. 'If I hadn't been so stupid ... if I hadn't gotten captured and needed rescuing ... this never would've happened.'

'If I hadn't let my parents convince me to stay ... maybe I could've helped him,' Hermione moaned. Harry winced, feeling instantly guilty that everyone thought it was their faults, when really, it was his. It was _only _his. Couldn't they see that?

'We were there too, y'know,' Bill said regretfully.

'Yeah,' Charlie seconded, sounding just as defeated. Harry clenched his hand into a tight fist, desperately trying to control his emotions. He knew he was failing, and thought that perhaps Umbridge had been right when she said he wouldn't make a good Auror. 'We're to blame more than you are. We're older; we should've been able to protect him from –'

'SHUT UP!' Harry yelled. Everyone looked at him, shocked by his outburst. 'What happened wasn't your fault, any of you! It was MINE!'

'No it wasn't, Harry,' began Percy, sounding exasperated. 'You were fighting Amycus at the time.'

'That's not what I mean,' explained Harry, still yelling. 'I ...' he couldn't begin to explain all the things he was at fault for. It was his fault because he had befriended Ron, because he had put Ron's entire family in danger. It was his fault because he had fallen in love with Ginny and because he had let Voldemort use her to manipulate him, to draw him out into the open. It was his fault because – 'It's my fault for living when Voldemort killed my parents!'

'Harry,' George argued, 'that isn't your fault!

'Yeah, mate, just _think _how terrible it'd be if you hadn't survived,' Fred added, though neither twin sounded particularly sure of themselves.

'Okay, fine. But I've known for a long time now how dangerous being Harry Potter can be,' Harry said, 'and I let Ron get involved. I let you all get involved.' He stood up and walked over to the door. Knowing, just as he had known at Dumbledore's funeral, that it was a horrible thing to do. But still, he couldn't bear to face them. He couldn't bear to hear them trying to reassure him. 'You don't have to pretend for my sake. Ron wouldn't have been there tonight if it weren't for me. Ginny wouldn't have … none of you would've.'

'Sod off, Harry!' Bill yelled. 'We were there because this is our fight, too!'

'Not anymore, it isn't,' Harry snapped. 'I've done too much to this family already. Mrs Weasley can't take much more of this! I don't want any of you coming along on any more Order missions.' He knew that he was no longer in the position to make those sorts of calls, but he couldn't control the words from flying out of his mouth.

Charlie turned to glare at Harry, turning bright red, as if he were about to strike him. 'Incase you haven't realized, _you're_ a member of this family, whether you like it or not. Nobody blames you for what happened. Ron was of legal age, he knew what he was getting himself into. You may not have the red hair, but you _are_ a Weasley and Weasleys stick together no matter what. So shut up, because Boy Who Lived or not, I'm going to hit you if you don't!'

Harry watched Ginny, who was now sitting up and staring at him with hurt, uncertain eyes. A silent understanding passed through them and Harry hoped that she knew how much he cared for her, and that although he was utterly defeated by what happened to Ron, a part of him would always be relieved that it had been his friend and not the love of his life.

She nodded slightly, as if knowing what he was about to do and telling him she would forgive him for doing so, and so Harry nodded back before turning away from them all and walking away like the coward he felt he was.

……………………………………………………………

This wasn't happening. Ron wasn't _really _gone. This was just a stupid joke that he was playing on her. He always did have a twisted sense of humour.

Even Ron wasn't twisted enough to do this to her.

_Where was he?_

She was back at The Burrow now. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George were still at Grimmauld Place with everybody else. They were … well, she didn't even know what they were doing. But they were trying to find Ron. That was really all that mattered.

Ginny refused to go to St Mungo's until things had settled down more. Audrey had given her some pain-relieving potions, but the effects were still there and Hermione wasn't the only one who noticed. Harry was being too careful, too cautious around Ginny. He was acting as if he would break her. And all the while, his mind was elsewhere. Hermione knew.

Hermione sighed. Her head was throbbing and her throat was sore. Her limbs were exhausted, as if she had just run across the entire Hogwarts grounds. She was shivering, as if the warmth had left her entire body, and she didn't feel as though she'd ever feel anything other than emptiness ever again.

She trudged up the stairs and ended up in Ron's bedroom. She hadn't meant to. Her feet had just taken her there. Ginny came in. Harry wandered up a moment later.

'I'm glad you're okay,' said Hermione, her voice sounding raw and emotional. She tried her best to smile, failing miserably.

Ginny went over to Harry's bed and sat down. 'We were here,' she whispered. 'This morning, we were all here.'

Hermione could only bring herself to nod. She felt a sudden wave of exhaustion hit her and Harry must have sensed it, or perhaps she had been swaying on her feet, because Harry wrapped a protective arm around her and held her still.

'You should sleep,' he advised.

'Can we sleep in Ron's bed?' asked Ginny. 'The three of us?'

'I'd like that,' said Hermione.

'It'll be squished,' Harry said, and Hermione muttered a spell. The bed seemed to grow wider, suddenly. She pulled down the blankets and got in, not bothering to change out of her Muggle clothes. Ginny motioned for Harry to move and he hesitantly stepped up to Ron's bed, sliding under the covers. He and Hermione made as much room as they could, which proved to be enough because of the spell. Ginny, still in her gold dress, eased herself in. Hermione felt Harry shift to wrap an arm around each of them and she closed her eyes.

She wasn't used to Harry being this way. Normally, he was angry or demanding that he be allowed to go out and fight. Now, he seemed … subdued. As Hermione thought about it, she realized that Harry had been acting differently for quite some time. It was only after Ginny had disappeared that he converted back to his old hot-headedness.

She wondered how much of an effect Ginny had had on him. Harry had obviously changed, for the better, because of her.

She wondered if she would've changed Ron, given the chance, and realized that she didn't want that. Ron couldn't get any better, anyway.

She recalled what Ginny had said and her heart ached at the memory of this morning, when she had woken up in Ron's arms. She had slept in that very bed with him.

And for a brief moment in time, Hermione allowed herself to believe it was Ron who was holding her close and telling her everything would be alright, instead of Harry. And for that moment, everything seemed okay.

But that moment passed.

Because whether for a week, a month, or for the rest of their lives, _Ron was gone_.

……………………………………………………………

Harry did not sleep through the night. He did not sleep at all, actually. He felt drained and more exhausted than he could ever recall feeling before in his life. But he could not sleep. He stared up at the darkened ceiling, listening to the deep, even breathing of Ginny and Hermione.

He hadn't realized that he was waiting for something until it came.

Hermione was the first to cry out his name, the first to clutch Harry tightly and whimper in her sleep. He was surprised that Ginny hadn't awoken from Hermione's outburst. Harry, feeling slightly guilty for not knowing how to comfort her, merely stroked her hair and didn't let go of her until her breathing went back to normal and her cries ceased.

Ginny was next. Her nightmare was more intense, though. And it sent a chill down Harry's spine when he heard her whisper, _Tom_.

_Tom … please … no …_

She was having the same nightmares she had suffered from after her first year at Hogwarts.

_I don't want to go down there …_

Harry closed his eyes as the image of Ginny, down in the Chamber of Secrets, appeared is his mind.

How had he not fallen in love with her then? How had he not fallen for her the very first time he saw her? He didn't understand it. Every time he saw her now … every time he _thought _about her, he fell in love with her a little more. But why had he been so thick back then?

It wasn't as if he had too much on his mind to notice girls. He had noticed Cho. He had _really _noticed Cho. And he had noticed Hermione. He had never felt anything for her, but he had noticed her, still.

But Ginny … she was always Ron's sister. Perhaps that was why Harry had never paid her much attention. To him, she was off-limits. Ron was his best mate. There were rules about those sorts of things. But really, when did Harry follow the rules?

_Ron … oh … Ron, no!_

Harry winced at the sound of her voice. She was vulnerable and raw and full of anguish. He whispered in her ear and she calmed down almost immediately, though Harry now noticed that her cheeks were damp.

_Harry_.

Her voice was different now, happier, and Harry smiled genuinely, something that felt awkward and inappropriate and _disgraceful_, somehow. But he couldn't help it. Ginny was dreaming about him. He was in her dreams, calming her. Comforting her. Perhaps they still had a chance, after all.

_Love you_.

'Love you, too,' Harry whispered. Finally, when he could stay awake no longer, he dropped off to sleep.

……………………………………………………………


	22. Wounded

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Wounded  
**……………………………………………………………

Harry awoke the next morning and cursed. He had spent the night in bed with Ginny. It was a good thing he had woken up when he did, or else Mrs Weasley would've walked in on them. And then she'd yell and scream, and he'd be slaughtered by Ron.

_Ron_.

It felt as if Harry had just been sacked with a ton of bricks. He cursed again, more forcefully this time, and Ginny stirred.

'Harry,' she groaned without opening her eyes. 'I think I need to go to St Mungo's now.'

'Where does it hurt?' he asked, shifting so he could see her better in the dim lighting. Perhaps having her lie still all night wasn't the best idea. Her muscles were probably even tenser than before.

'_Everywhere_.'

Harry sat up and noticed that Hermione was no longer beside him. Taking advantage of the extra room on the bed, he managed to get on his feet without climbing overtop of Ginny.

'Can you walk?' he asked as he put his glasses on again, and then held out his hand to stop her when she tried. 'Never mind,' he said. 'I'll just carry you.'

'I can walk,' Ginny insisted stubbornly as Harry lifted her up.

'I know you can,' Harry said, though he didn't really believe her. He must've sounded as doubtful as he felt, because Ginny scowled.

'I _can_, Harry!'

'I never said that you couldn't.'

Ginny glared at him, something that seemed to take all of her energy. 'Put me down,' she commanded. Harry shook his head and didn't stop walking. He shifted her weight in his arms and tried to block her out as he went down the stairs. He needed to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, or they'd _both _end up as patients in St Mungo's. '_Harry_. I can take care of myself!'

'Like you took care of yourself at the pond?'

The second he said it, he regretted it. Ginny's jaw dropped and Harry realized that he had stopped walking. She looked as if she was about to snap at him, and he wished that she would just let him have it because he knew he deserved it, but instead, she dropped her gaze and took a deep breath.

'Put me down,' she whispered. 'I don't want you to help me. Just … put me down. Please.'

Harry didn't want to put her down. He knew that she would go into her room and shut the door – or worse, she'd go to St Mungo's without him. He wanted to hold her and make her listen as he apologized – make her _accept _his apology and believe that he hadn't meant it, because he _hadn't_!

But Harry put her down and didn't even try to stop her as she staggered into her bedroom and shut the door softly behind her.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny was an idiot.

Why couldn't she just let Harry carry her? She was in pain! She probably wouldn't even be able to walk down the rest of the flights of stairs without his help. But she just _had _to be stubborn about it. Damn her and her stupid pride.

It hurt a lot. It hurt all over. It hurt when she took a step or even a breath, when she coughed or swallowed or _blinked_. The worst part wasn't the physical pain, though. What hurt the most was that Harry had thrown everything back in her face. She knew he hadn't meant it – she _hoped _he hadn't, at least – but then again, why would he say it if he didn't?

It wasn't as if he cared about her, or anything. If he did, why would he have broken up with her? Why would he have led her on all bloody summer? He said that he loved her but he didn't. He couldn't. A part of Ginny wondered if Harry was even capable of love. She wouldn't blame him if he wasn't, though. After everything he had been through … it would be a miracle if he could feel anything other than hate.

Merlin help her, she was _so _bloody in love with him. And no matter how many times he pushed her away, she would only try harder. She would never give up on Harry Potter. She would always want to be with him. Maybe _that _was what hurt her the most.

She was out of breath now. She had only walked from the corridor into her room, over to her wardrobe, and she was out of breath. What was worse, her heavy panting sent searing pains through her body. The Cruciatus Curse was bloody murder. She thought about how close to death she actually was yesterday. She thought about Ron and shuddered, wondering how close to death he was at that moment. She nearly cried out in pain. It hurt to shudder.

She cursed when she stumbled and nearly toppled over onto her dresser. She was such a mess. Oh, she needed Harry. But he was probably already down in the kitchen, getting food. Or maybe he had gone back to bed.

'Ginny,' Harry said through the door, and Ginny would've jumped if her body didn't feel as if it weighed four times as much as usual. 'I'm coming in.' Harry came in and frowned when he saw her. 'What're you doing in here? We should get your mum and go get you checked out. What if you have internal injuries?'

'I need to get changed,' she croaked out. 'I can't go there in this dress. And I'll need to run a brush through my hair and wash my face.'

Ginny could tell that Harry thought she was being stupid. The Healers at St Mungo's wouldn't care if she had a bit of dirt on her dress or if her hair was in knots. But he knew better than to argue with her. Instead, he went to her wardrobe and pulled out jogging pants for her.

He didn't bother asking if she needed his help. He dropped to his knees silently and slowly slid his hand up her thigh, pulling off her stockings. She watched him intently as he kissed her calf once before helping her step into the bottoms he had chosen for her. When he stood back up, she nearly gasped at the look on his face. His eyes were swimming with concern and guilt and, yes, _love_.

Harry pushed the straps off her shoulders and the dress she was wearing fell to the floor, but Ginny forgot to blush. She knew that Harry was doing his best not to look at her chest. In hindsight, perhaps she should've worn a different bra – one that fit her a bit better – but she had originally thought it would be better to wear something tighter than normal. She hadn't wanted to, er, _fall out_ of her dress.

'Arms up,' he said quietly. Ginny lifted her arms over her head, trying not to wince at the pain that flared up inside of her. Why couldn't she handle the pain? Harry had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse before, and he had never been so … incompetent and dependent on others. But he hadn't been victim to it as much as she had been. Lestrange had been almost relentless and for a while there, Ginny wasn't sure she'd even make it out of that mess alive.

Harry grabbed a large shirt from her wardrobe – one that, upon further inspection, was actually Fred's but had probably been sorted incorrectly by Mrs Weasley and put away with Ginny's things – and gently tugged it over her head.

He looked around her bedroom and found her hairbrush. He worked the brush through her hair, softly working out the tangles, pulling it back out of her face. She leaned into his touch, and for a moment, she focused on something other than the pain in her body. It was nice to have someone taking care of her in such a way. Harry lovingly brushed the hair out of her eyes and Ginny sighed contentedly.

'I'm sorry about what I said,' Harry whispered.

'I know,' she whispered back. It was the truth. From time to time, everyone said things they didn't mean. But Harry had just shown her how sorry he was, how much he hadn't meant what he said. _Forgive and forget_, her mother had once said. Perhaps she would never forget what Harry said to her … but she could forgive. She _did _forgive.

'I love you. Really, I do.'

'I know,' she said. 'And I love you.'

Harry grinned. 'Yeah, I know. But it's good to finally hear you say it.' He kissed her softly then, and Ginny wanted to wrap her arms around him, but it hurt to move so she opted to stay still, instead. 'Are you ready to go?'

Ginny nodded and Harry picked her up again, walking out of the room and down the rest of the flights of stairs.

Sometimes, Ginny reflected, you had to stand on your own two feet. Sometimes, though, it was best to just give in and let your boyfriend take care of you.

……………………………………………………………

Harry wasn't very good at waiting. Obviously. But he found it was easier to do it this time, because he had been allowed to sit beside Ginny as she slept. He didn't know when she would awake, but he wasn't in a hurry. She had been asleep for four hours (after taking six different potions) and wasn't showing any signs of waking any time soon.

Merlin, he was so in love with her. It wasn't _love_, really. It was something else. There had to be a word stronger than that to describe what he felt for her. Maybe he'd just have to invent one.

Harry yawned and shifted in his chair. He had only gotten a few hours of sleep, if that. It was only catching up with him now. He leaned forward and rested his head on Ginny's bed, knowing that he shouldn't fall asleep. He slept.

He awoke to Ginny tapping him lightly. He sat up and felt pain shoot down his neck and back. Ginny was sitting up in bed and staring at him, smiling slightly.

'Sorry,' she said. 'I didn't want you to get a stiff neck.'

Harry cracked his neck. 'How're you feeling?'

'The potions are helping me sleep, I suppose,' said Ginny. 'But it still hurts like hell.' Harry frowned and nodded. 'Aren't you going to come up here with me?'

Harry stared at her. 'What if your mum comes in? Or one of the Healers?'

'Mum's a little preoccupied at the moment,' Ginny said blankly. 'And no Healer is going to kick Harry Potter out of my bed.'

Ginny shifted over, making room for him, and Harry didn't really see a reason why he shouldn't just get in bed with her. It wasn't as if they were going to do anything inappropriate. They were in a hospital, after all. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he wanted to hold her more than anything in that second. He settled onto the mattress and immediately Ginny was against him, resting her head against his chest though he knew it couldn't be comfortable in her current state.

'Do you think Ron is okay?' Ginny asked after a few moments.

Harry wasn't caught off guard by this question. He had been wondering the same thing.

'I don't know,' he said, because what else could he tell her? He couldn't lie. 'I hope so.'

'Everyone's at Headquarters looking for him right now,' she continued. 'They'll find him soon.' He closed his eyes and bit his lip. 'Right?' she asked, almost as an afterthought.

'Right,' Harry agreed, his throat feeling dry. He didn't have the heart to tell her about what he had heard between Voldemort and Lestrange the night before. He would tell McGonagall later … but he couldn't tell Ginny. It would be best if she didn't know, at least for right now.

'Right …' Ginny repeated, and Harry didn't miss the doubt in her voice. 'I'm worried about Hermione.'

'So am I.'

'Do you think she'll … I mean … what if Ron –?'

Harry shushed her. 'We shouldn't be thinking about that right now.'

They fell silent again and Harry could hardly believe everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Just yesterday, at this time, he was getting dressed for Bill's wedding. He was trying to decide what to do about Ginny.

Merlin, he was daft. He had almost lost her so many times and she kept forgiving him. Why did she do that? Why didn't she just throw up her hands and give up on him already? He had given her plenty of opportunities to hate him. He wouldn't even be able to blame her if she did. He counted his lucky stars that she loved him, because he would be nothing without her. Whenever she was around, he felt a strange sort of … power. Of protectiveness. Of strength. It had everything to do with Ginny … with her feelings for him and his feelings for her.

The thought that he had tried to end things with her was laughable. His feelings for her hadn't gone away while he was at Privet Drive, and he doubted that they ever would. If he walked away from her right now and never looked back, she would be on his mind every second of every minute of every day. And he would _never _stop loving her.

He hated himself because he was stupid, because he tried to give her up as if she was an addiction. She wasn't a – well, she _was_ an addiction. But she was the best kind. She was one habit he didn't _want_ to break.

Ginny took a deep breath. 'About, um, what happened at the wedding …'

'I was an idiot,' said Harry. 'I thought that I was protecting you but I wasn't. I was so bloody stupid. I don't want to be stupid anymore, Gin. I'm done letting you down and I'm done letting myself down. I'm done being noble.'

He had never felt so open and honest, so exposed, and he briefly wondered what Ginny would say. She had told him she loved him but what if she had changed her mind? What if she had thought about it over the past few hours and decided that he wasn't worth the risk or that he wasn't worth the heartache?

'Good,' said Ginny. 'But this is it, you know. There's no going back now.'

'I know,' Harry said firmly. 'This is for life.'

For life.

Harry didn't see a problem with that, honestly.

'Mm, you have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that,' Ginny said dreamily, her face nuzzled against his chest.

'I wish I had done it sooner,' Harry said, and it was true. Ginny had always loved him and the fact that he couldn't say the same hurt him in a way he didn't quite understand. He wondered if it matted to her. He wondered if she cared that he had ignored her for nearly six years. Of course she did – she had to. This thought bothered Harry more than anything else.

He wondered if she thought he hadn't cared about her back then. He wondered if she ever thought of their past, if she ever resented him for only seeing her as Ron's sister.

Harry had a random thought. 'So,' he said, breaking the silence. 'It's, er …'

'It's what?'

'It's your birthday,' Harry said softly, and he felt Ginny stiffen. 'Shite, sorry … I shouldn't have said anything.'

'No,' Ginny said after a moment. 'No, that's okay, Harry. Who knows, maybe everything will be okay once we get back home. That would be the best birthday gift I could ever ask for.'

Harry prayed to anyone he thought would listen that everything would turn out okay.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny sat up, sighed, and looked on as the resident Healer attending to her left to get more potions for her to drink. She had to admit, the care at St Mungo's was better than she had expected. Healers were coming in and out of her room to check on her all the time. But perhaps that was just because Harry Potter was with her.

She had never realized how much attention Harry always got, everywhere he went. It wasn't as if people just whispered behind his back or did other, less-obvious things. They would squeal and gasp, sometimes even blatantly stare or come up to him and ask for his autograph. Colin had practically been in love with Harry all through Hogwarts. In first year, after Colin found out that Harry had spent the summer at Ginny's house, she had to answer millions of questions about what Harry's pajamas looked like.

She realized that she was feeling sorry for him, so she shook her head to clear it, because if there was one thing that Harry didn't like, it was being pitied.

'Does it hurt?' asked Harry. 'I mean – as much as before?'

Ginny wanted to scream _YES, NOW GO GET THE BLOODY HEALER AND BRING HIM BACK HERE SO HE CAN DO HIS JOB AND HEAL ME! _

But she bit her tongue, forced herself to shake her head, and said, 'No. I'm feeling a bit better, actually.'

Harry frowned and stood from the chair at her bedside (he had left her alone in the bed once the Healers started to come into her room again). 'Really, Gin, I wish you wouldn't lie.'

Ginny smiled in spite of herself. Harry reached out and brushed the hair off her shoulders. His eyes locked with hers and his expression changed ever-so-slightly.

'What's wrong?' asked Ginny.

'I …' said Harry. He took her hair in his hands and gave her a puzzled expression. 'Is your hair falling out? It seems thinner than normal.'

Ginny gave him a strange look but grabbed at her hair. She gasped and looked up at him. 'It feels thinner over … here … do you think?' Harry nodded. 'There's definitely some missing,' she said. 'But it hasn't been falling out!'

'Then how –?'

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment and gulped. Shite. She was in serious trouble.

'I think I remember Lestrange taking some of my hair,' Ginny said slowly. 'I was too out of it at the time, but …'

Harry cursed. 'I thought I noticed it when I brushed your hair before but I never …' he cursed again. 'Do you know what this means? They're –'

'They're making a Polyjuice Potion,' said Ginny. 'What am I going to do?'

……………………………………………………………


	23. The Man

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Man  
**……………………………………………………………

It was two and a half weeks – _seventeen days _– later when they were all called to the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, probably about to give up on the search. It hadn't been long enough. Harry knew that if they would only keep looking, even for just a few more days, that they would find Ron. He was sure of it. But they had already dedicated the last seventeen days to looking for Ron. They had hardly slept, hardly eaten … hardly done anything other than Wandering Spell after Wandering Spell, raid after raid … Harry's head was still spinning. They had put ads in the _Daily Prophet_. Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys had done interview after interview after interview. He was seriously considering crawling to the Minister and asking for his help, in exchange for Harry's endorsements. They had put off everything – Bill's honeymoon, the hunt for Horcruxes – but they hadn't come up with anything yet. They had searched Malfoy Manor, but found nothing. The Malfoys were on the run, wanted, just as Sirius had been. Wherever the Death Eaters had relocated to, they must have taken Ron with them. There were no leads. That didn't mean they wouldn't eventually find something, Harry told himself daily.

The search couldn't be over. It just couldn't be. They couldn't be giving up, not on Ron. But they were. Harry could tell by the look on McGonagall's face.

McGonagall cleared her throat and Harry tightened his grip on Ginny. His ex-professor had tears in her eyes … they were running down her cheeks, actually. McGonagall was crying, and it was the first time that Harry had ever seen her so open and honest about her emotions. It made him feel uneasy – even more than he already did.

Security had been increased tenfold around The Burrow and Headquarters since Polyjuicing Ginny had become a possibility for the other side. Mr Weasley was enforcing more security measures, including more passwords than ever before, but nobody was complaining much this time around. Harry had dug out the book Hermione had given him for his birthday (_Defense Against the Dark Arts Volume IV: Ancient Curses and How to Deflect Them_) and Lupin had used it, in conjunction with other various spells, to put some sort of protective seal around Ginny. This way, they couldn't "do anything funny to her", as he'd explained to Harry.

And – Harry hated this – they were starting to make Ginny change her appearance. It had started out subtly enough – she had to wear a sort of tracking bracelet on her arm that she wasn't supposed to take off. Now, though, she had gotten a haircut (her hair now came to her shoulders, and while it still looked brilliant, Harry knew that Ginny hated it) and she was now sporting a few blonde highlights. Mr Weasley had even discussed bringing home some Muggle contact lenses to change her eye colour, but McGonagall had said that they had changed enough for the moment. Harry thought that all of this was rather unnecessary, as he hadn't really let Ginny out of his sight since she'd been back.

According to McGonagall, the way a Polyjuice Potion worked was that it only made the brewer look the way the person did when the hair had been taken from them. Basically, whoever was trying to be Ginny would still have totally red hair down to the middle of her back.

Nobody knew, at this point in time, how long Ginny would have to continue to alter her appearance. Their side had no idea how many hairs had been taken, or when they were going to be used.

Ginny was shaking in Harry's arms, not taking her eyes off McGonagall. She had spent three days in St Mungo's before being released back home to The Burrow. For a week after that, she was still experiencing some pain and discomfort, but she hadn't let it stop her from going to Headquarters and trying to find Ron. She had even done a few Wandering Spells, though Harry and Hermione did most of them, whenever they could. Ginny was fully recovered now, physically, though Harry occasionally saw the shadow of _something _in her eyes, and he wondered how long it would be until she was fully healed. Perhaps she never would be. He didn't know. But he knew that finding Ron would help a great deal.

Hermione was sandwiched between Fred and George, who, surprisingly, had hardly let the girl out of their sight in the past two weeks. The twins had put their assistant, Verity, in charge of the shop and hadn't left Headquarters in a week. The entire Weasley family, plus Harry and Hermione, had been living out of Grimmauld Place, actually. Harry didn't like it, because it reminded him of fifth year, when Sirius and Ron were with him and everything was simple … but it was better than the alternative, which was going back to The Burrow and sleeping in Ron's bedroom by himself, trying to fall asleep to the sound of the ghoul in the attic instead of Ron's loud, even snores.

In a way, Harry could sympathize with Hermione's parents. Really, they hadn't spent any quality time with her since last Christmas. If his parents were still alive, and he was spending all of his time with another family, they'd probably be a little ruffled by it, too. They had redeemed themselves, in a way. Clearly, they were aware of the turmoil at The Burrow, because they hadn't stayed long. In fact, they'd left right before Ginny had gone to St Mungo's. Hermione had hugged them and thanked them for understanding that she needed to stay, though her tone was distant and cool. Her mother only asked that Hermione contacted them as soon as she was ready to come home. Harry would never be sure, but once they had left, he thought he heard Hermione mutter, _Don't hold your breath_.

'Yesterday afternoon,' McGonagall began, and Harry unconsciously held in his breath, 'before leaving Headquarters, Kingsley Shacklebolt did one final Wandering Spell. What he saw was … well, we were hoping that it wasn't true. But after careful investigations, and a few more spells, we have determined that it was, in fact, true.'

Harry tried hard to listen, he really did, but nothing that anyone said was sinking in. All he could think about was what giving up this search meant for Ron and for everyone else. This was the end of the world. Honestly. It was.

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand tightly – painfully – and it brought him back to reality.

'I'm so sorry,' Kingsley was saying. 'But it's true. Ron is … he's gone.'

'You're wrong,' said Hermione.

'I can't imagine how difficult this must be,' Kingsley said softly. 'Hermione, dear, I saw it with my own two eyes.'

'Well, you saw _wrong_!'

Kingsley bowed his head apologetically and took a step back, clearly unwilling to argue with Hermione.

'He's in a better place now,' Harry heard Lupin say, his tone soft and comforting, something like a father's would be, Harry imagined.

But was it really a _better _place? Ron wasn't with Harry or Ginny or _Hermione_, so, really, how great could it be?

He looked around the room and couldn't quite make out anything. Everything had gone blurry, and Harry would've thought that he was crying if he hadn't known better. Truthfully, Harry didn't even think he was capable of crying anymore.

When Sirius died, Harry had thrown things around and practically destroyed Dumbledore's office. It made him feel just the slightest bit better. And it gave him answers to questions he hadn't even asked – answers about the prophecy and Voldemort, about Harry's purpose and role in the war.

He had shed a few tears at Dumbledore's funeral, but where had that gotten him? He had only felt worse. He had come close to crying for Ginny … he had come close to completely breaking down over her … and it wouldn't have helped in the least.

No, he couldn't cry for Ron.

Crying made it real.

Crying was basically saying, _Ron is dead, and I accept that_.

'You … shut up,' whispered Hermione, leaning into Fred. 'You didn't see _anything_! There was nothing to _see_!'

'I … I watched it all,' Kingsley said, speaking more to Arthur than anyone else now. 'The Avada Kedavra. One of the Death Eaters did it. I couldn't tell who it was. He didn't suffer,' Kingsley added, as if that actually _meant _something, as if Ron being _dead _was somehow easier because he _hadn't suffered_. Harry wanted to laugh at this, but all that came out was a choking, wheezing sound that he didn't even know he could make. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he would admit that in the past, he had dreams – no, nightmares – in which Ron was dying _at his side_, fighting the brave fight, dignified and heroic. While these nightmares had been awful, they would've been better than the truth. Ron died _alone_ and who-_knows_-where, probably tortured and without a wand, while Harry was back home, safe and sound, at Headquarters or The Burrow. It didn't seem fair. And if Harry thought that it would make even the slightest of differences, he would offer himself up to the Death Eaters in a second.

'We need to do more,' said Harry after a minute. He had never before realized just how long a minute was. One minute – sixty seconds – could make a world of difference. One minute, Harry was dancing with Ginny at the wedding, and the next, they were all being attacked. One minute, Harry was sure that everything was going to be okay, and the next, _Ron was gone_. One minute, Harry was agonizing over _where _his best friend could be, and then next, his best friend was _dead _and _gone _and _never coming back_. In a single minute, people were born and people were dying. People laughed, cried, smiled and frowned. And it didn't really matter, in the grand scheme of things, because the next minute would only bring the winds of change. 'We need to at least get his body. We need to bring it back, or something. We … we just need to do more.'

Perhaps it had been more than a minute since they'd gotten the news, actually, because Harry realized that everyone with red hair, except for Ginny, had disappeared somewhere. Somewhere to his left, Hermione sniffed. In his arms, Ginny buried her face in his chest and sobbed, the sound cutting through the air like a knife.

McGonagall sniffed. 'I … I am so sorry, Harry.'

_Harry_, she had said, and it made him shudder because it wasn't _right_ – because McGonagall only called him _Potter_ … because Ron was actually _alive_ … because Dumbledore couldn't have been _killed _in June … because although Snape was a bastard, he couldn't have been the one to do it … because _everything was still okay_. It just bloody_ had to be_.

Harry shrugged at McGonagall's words and dropped his gaze to the floor, ignoring Lupin's attempts to catch his eye, ignoring Hermione's insistent tone when she said that Ron was alive and that they were all misinformed, ignoring everything but the feel of Ginny in his arms, of knowing that she was in unbelievable pain, of knowing that he had caused it. Later, she would say it wasn't his fault and he would want to believe it. Maybe he _would _believe it. Maybe it really wasn't his fault. He didn't know. He probably never would. He had no bloody idea about anything anymore. But did it matter? Did it bring Ron back?

Harry remembered the conversation he had had with Ron before everything had gone to hell. Harry remembered what he had promised. He wanted to keep that promise … he wanted to give Hermione the message, the one that he and Ron had arranged to be given to either Hermione or Ginny in the event of an accident. He really did. She should know, he reasoned. But Ron was gone. Hermione was not. And Harry had to think about which was worse: betraying a deceased friend, or hurting one who was still alive and could still feel all of the raw, painful emotions that had been dished out to them?

Harry sighed. Hermione deserved to know. He would want Ginny to know, if it had been him. And he was pretty sure that if it _had _been him, Ginny would want to know, too. But Hermione and Ginny were different. Could Hermione handle it? She wasn't as strong as Ginny. Harry shook his head. Hermione was one of the strongest people he knew. The fact that she hadn't shriveled up and died proved how tough she was, how thick her skin was.

One day, when the time was right, Hermione would know. But until then, Harry would have to figure out a way to let her know how much Ron cared about her without actually having to tell her. He had no idea how he was going to do that, though.

'We cannot do any more than we already have,' said McGonagall. 'You know that.'

Really, the only thing Harry knew for sure was that if the roles had been reversed, Ron never would have given up on him.

……………………………………………………………

'We cannot do any more than we already have,' McGonagall was saying. 'You know that.'

A wave of desperation swept over Hermione as she shook her head, refusing to admit that Ron was dead.

It was one thing to have gone the past two and a half weeks without him, unsure that he would come back. It was an entirely different thing to give up hoping, to accept that he was gone. But what could she do? If they said that Ron was gone, then Ron was gone.

Ron was dead.

It sounded so harsh … so _final _that Hermione couldn't stand it. Death was so permanent, so irreversible that it was as if she was losing Ron all over again. Why hadn't she realized this before? Sirius had died … Dumbledore had died … so many had died. But none of them had been Ron. It had never mattered so much before.

This wasn't like getting a bad mark on an essay (though she'd never actually experienced this, personally). Hermione couldn't make up for it next time. There was no next time. Hermione would never look into his blue eyes again. Her heart would never again skip a beat when he walked into the room.

She would never get to say goodbye, to tell him that she loved him more than anything, and that if she could, she would trade places with him in a second.

Hadn't she told him not to go? Hadn't she _begged _him to stay behind with her? Stupid Ron. Stupid, noble Ron. It wasn't fair that she loved him. He was so unpredictable, so completely and totally different from her. He didn't think things through before he acted. He was rude, he swore … he liked Quidditch and hated studying. And he definitely hated S.P.E.W.

But when you got right down to it, how different had they really been? They were both stubborn and difficult. They both fought alongside Harry every chance they could. They were both passionate people. They never backed down from a challenge. They had both made mistakes, some big, like Lavender, and some small, like Victor Krum, but mistakes nonetheless. Hermione wanted to be angry with Ron for leaving, for going off to fight. It was easier not to feel the pain if you could focus on all the rage. But she couldn't, because she would've done the same thing if she could have.

They fought, but it was only because they were so similar. It was because they were the same in so many aspects that was killing Hermione inside. She and Ron were soul mates. They had to be. And now, he was … dead.

She didn't know how long she stood there, listening to the sound of Ginny's tears, listening to the sound of her own. She was tired and wanted to sleep, but it didn't seem fair, somehow, because Ron would never get to sleep again.

She found the rest of the Weasleys and after many long, emotionally exhausting hours, they all climbed the stairs and went to their bedrooms at Headquarters. Hermione was sharing a room with Ginny. They exchanged quick, half-hearted hugs before getting in their beds.

It hadn't truly caught up with Hermione yet, and if she knew anything about the girl in the bed next to hers, it hadn't caught up to Ginny, either.

……………………………………………………………

Hermione awoke sometime in the middle of the night. She sighed and got out of bed, tiptoeing across the room to the door. Harry mumbled something in his sleep and Hermione froze, but he quickly dozed off again. Each night, Harry slept in Ginny's bed, and although Hermione felt certain Mrs Weasley disapproved, she never said anything to either of them about it.

Hermione Floo'd to The Burrow and sat down at the kitchen table, in the spot Ron used to occupy. She didn't know why she did it. She hadn't meant to leave Headquarters. She was probably breaking about a thousand different rules. It was as if she was under some sort of Imperius Curse – except she could still feel the pain.

She sighed. How could this happen? How could Ron be dead?

She'd promised him once that she would never leave him. He had never promised her the same. But he wouldn't dare leave her, not after what he'd said.

_I love you_.

He had meant it, hadn't he?

He hadn't promised her, personally, that he'd always be with her ... but maybe he'd promised himself. Maybe he'd meant to promise her and simply hadn't gotten around to it. It was a possibility, wasn't it?

She looked up at the clock. Ten hands, including hers, were pointed at _Mortal Peril_.

But one – Ron's – was pointed at _Lost_.

She felt something catch in her throat and her heart lifted slightly. She knew then – she understood better than she had ever understood something before – that Ron was alive.

Ron was _alive_.

She smiled and climbed the stairs to Ron's bedroom. It was cold and dusty. Nobody had stepped foot in it for weeks. She crawled into his bed and sniffed the pillow, even though it didn't really smell like Ron anymore. This didn't bother her in a way it would have an hour ago.

Ron would come back eventually, and when he did, the first place he would go would be his bedroom. Hermione would be waiting for him. And even he didn't stay long … even if he didn't, for some reason, bother to tell anyone that he was back … even if he went back to wherever he was now without so much as leaving a note, it would be okay. Because Hermione would go with him, wherever he wanted.

……………………………………………………………

A man squinted against the rain and watched as his friend – Joe, someone the man had met only five days ago but was the closest thing to a friend that the man had in this strange place – rushed toward him holding a newspaper. The man sighed and ran a hand through his short black hair. He didn't naturally have black hair, though. He was altering his appearance with a spell that Joe had taught him (he didn't ask how Joe knew of such a spell, or why he seemed so good at putting it into practice). He naturally had bright, flaming red hair. And he had freckles. But it was easier to just do a simple spell and get rid of everything that made him stand out. Nobody took notice to the tall, dark stranger. Everybody noticed a man with bright red hair and obnoxious freckles. The man didn't fancy getting asked questions – mostly because he couldn't answer any of their questions. He couldn't even answer his own.

'Hey!' called Joe. Joe was the only other person who around this area who didn't speak with a clear American accent. The man didn't speak like the rest of them. His accent was British, and he wondered if maybe he had lived there once. But Joe had traces of the same accent, and he said he had never even been _near_ Europe.

The man grunted in response. 'What is it?'

Joe wordlessly handed him the paper and the man's eyes skimmed the front page, which was spattered with raindrops.

'Another Death Eater attack?' asked the man.

Joe nodded, his eyes oddly sparkling. 'Yeah, they never stop over in England, it seems. Muggles, this one was.'

The man sighed.

'Turn to page five,' said Joe, after a moment, with a tone that the man couldn't quite figure out. The man turned to page five and his eyes were immediately drawn to the picture.

'Who is that?' he asked urgently. He knew her … but from where? Maybe, he thought, if he could contact her, she would be able to fill him in on his past. Maybe she would help him discover why certain parts of his memory were gone.

Or maybe he was just desperate for a link to his past, and he was tricking himself into believing he knew the beautiful girl on page five. He certainly _wished _that he knew the beautiful girl on page five. Every other bloke probably did, too.

But the way her curly brown hair cascaded down her back … the way she kept her shoulders back and her chin high, even though she was clearly grieving in the picture … the way she wrung her hands and worried her lip … there was something about her that he knew. It was on the tip of his tongue.

'Who knows,' said Joe dismissively. 'But she's awful pretty. She looks a little sad, though. I wouldn't mind cheering her up, you know, give her the old –'

The man felt his fist clench and he looked up from the paper. 'Don't talk about her like that,' he spat.

Joe stared at the man with a startled expression for several seconds. 'Do you, um, know her?' he asked in a measured voice.

The man sighed. 'No,' he admitted, realizing how foolish he sounded in his own head. Joe seemed to relax. 'But still …'

'Yeah, you're right. There's no damn point. She's too close with that Harry Potter. Lucky bloke, he's probably –'

The man didn't hear the rest of Joe's sentence because he walked away, taking the newspaper with him. He tried to read the article attached to the pretty girl's picture.

The man shook his head in frustration and tossed the paper in a nearby rubbish bin. The rain had soaked through and the ink had run across the page. There was no way he would be able to read the article. Was it really worth it, anyway?

He wondered where he knew the girl from. But if what Joe had said was true, she was friends with Harry Potter. Perhaps he only knew her because she was famous, too. He imagined the picture of her in his mind again. Joe had been right. She looked sad. He wondered what could make her feel that way and then laughed aloud. What did he care? He wasn't about to solve anyone else's problems.

He had his own to deal with.

……………………………………………………………


	24. The Funeral

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Twenty-Four: The Funeral  
**……………………………………………………………

The first of September, for the very first time in centuries, did not bring the start of a new term at Hogwarts. Instead, it brought Ron's funeral.

The only thing harder than losing Ron, in Harry's opinion, was seeing what it did to Mrs Weasley and Ginny. They sobbed through the entire ceremony, which was held in a small cemetery where Harry had never been before.

They didn't have a body. But they had a headstone, and it was the best anyone could do for Ronald Weasley. That thought was like a knife in Harry's side.

After all that Ron had done for him … after all the laughs and Quidditch games and Chocolate Frogs … Harry couldn't even track down his best mate's corpse to give him a proper burial.

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand and he looked down at her, unable to figure her out. She had gone from absolutely miserable to somewhat cheery, and Harry didn't understand why. She had been a wreck ever since Ron had disappeared. The day they were told of Ron's demise, Hermione had wept for him. But the next morning, she was smiling. Her eyes were twinkling much like they had done before this whole mess.

'It's okay to cry,' Harry told her, because it was really the only thing he could tell her as he held a sobbing Ginny in his arms.

Hermione leaned in. 'Can I tell you something, Harry?' she whispered.

Harry nodded. 'You can tell me anything.'

'I know … but … if I tell you this, you have to promise that you won't think I'm crazy. You have to try to understand,' she said. Her eyes were pleading with him for some sort of support so he nodded and promised. 'Ron isn't dead,' she said with a small smile.

For a long time, Harry didn't know how to respond. He'd told Hermione that he wouldn't write her off as crazy but … well, she certainly _seemed _nutters.

Harry knew what was going on. Hermione was in denial. He had experienced it when Sirius died, and again with Professor Dumbledore. But it was important for his friend to realize that Ron was really gone. Perhaps it would hurt, but it would be for the best, wouldn't it?

'Hermione,' he whispered. 'He _is _dead. Ron is dead.'

Hermione shook her head, her eyes flashing in anger. 'You promised that you'd try to understand,' she hissed. 'Ron isn't dead. I _know _he isn't.'

Harry couldn't help himself. He felt a small thrill of hope spawn in the pit of his stomach. 'What do you mean? How …?'

'I can't explain it,' said Hermione, and Harry felt the hope vanish at once. This was Hermione. She usually didn't make a move until she had checked and re-checked every single fact in at least three different books. Was she actually unable to explain how she knew that Ron was alive? 'I just know. I can feel it.'

She really didn't have any true _reason_? She didn't have facts and evidence to support her theories? She didn't have long, school-length essays written out on the subject?

Hermione was going by a feeling. This was crazy.

'Please tell me that I'm the only one you've told about this,' Harry said.

'Well, I was going to tell Mrs Weasley before this funeral but … I thought you should know first,' she said, squinting in confusion. 'But I'm going to tell McGonagall as soon as this is over.'

Harry shook his head. 'You can't do that,' he said quickly.

Hermione frowned. 'Why not?'

'Because!' he whispered, his eyes scanning the area to make sure that none of the Weasleys were listening to Hermione's desperate attempt to hold on to Ron. 'Look at Mrs Weasley … look at how upset she is!'

'Yes, and knowing that her son is alive and well will make her feel better,' Hermione argued. 'If nobody knows that Ron is alive, how will we be able to look for him?'

'You can't just go tell Mrs Weasley that her son is alive without any proof,' Harry said, marveling at the fact that he was, for once, being the logical one. 'You can't give her that hope and then take it away.'

'Who said anything about taking it away?' questioned Hermione. 'Ronald Weasley is alive. I can feel it, Harry. I can feel it in here,' she said, putting a hand over her heart. 'And if after all we've been through, that isn't good enough for you, then …'

'Then what?'

Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she turned around and walked away.

……………………………………………………………

McGonagall approached Harry a few minutes later, before he had the change to go find Hermione and convince her not to talk to Mrs Weasley about Ron.

'May I have a word?' requested McGonagall.

Harry nodded and followed her down a twisting path, keeping his eyes glued to the ground underfoot. 'What do you need, Professor?'

He felt a bit silly calling her Professor, especially since, as of today, it was clear that Hogwarts would not open and she would not be his professor any longer. If McGonagall noticed, though, she did not mention it.

'You have been reinstated,' she said, clearly wasting no time. 'I have come to realize that perhaps it was slightly foolish of me to force you out of the Order.'

Harry met her eyes. 'Um … thanks,' he said lamely. 'But I'm not going to come back to the Order.'

'Potter –'

'No,' he said. 'I've given it a lot of thought … and maybe the Order just isn't for me.'

'Well, that is your choice, of course.'

'Yeah,' Harry sighed, looking out across the cemetery. 'You know, I'm not even supposed to be here.'

'Is that so?' asked McGonagall.

'Uh-huh. We were supposed to … well, it doesn't even matter what we were supposed to do. It was going to be the three of us, just like always. You remember, Professor. We always managed to get into trouble when we were together,' he said. 'But somehow, everything always ended up okay for us. Didn't it?'

'Yes, it did, indeed.'

Harry laughed harshly. 'This summer was supposed to be different. It was supposed to be better. Ron and Hermione were supposed to finally get together, you know.' He paused at this part, hardly able to bear the wistful feeling that arose inside himself. 'We were supposed to fight Voldemort and the bloody Death Eaters on our terms, and damn it, I thought we might even win. And then, after it was all over and Voldemort was gone, we were going to come home, the three of us were. Ginny was going to be waiting for me and everything was going to be okay again. Nobody else was going to die. You were going to open Hogwarts and … and it was just going to be _good_, for once.'

He felt Professor McGonagall's arm on his shoulder for a brief moment before he turned to look out into the horizon. The sun was setting and Harry sighed, remembering how he and Ron used to play Quidditch in the backyard as the sun set behind them, sometimes listening when Hermione demanded that they come inside before it got too dark, sometimes not. Sometimes, even, they'd convince Hermione to join them for a fly.

'Why can't things ever just be _good_?'

'You have the power to make things good,' she said softly. 'Your magic is growing stronger. Do you feel it?'

Harry _did _feel it, but he couldn't bring himself to care very much.

'I would like for you to train with me,' McGonagall said. 'I can teach you to use your power. You have already exhibited amazing skill. You have excelled in your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Your wandless magic is especially strong. Remus Lupin tells me that you took out half the Death Eaters at Malfoy Manor with your wandless abilities. He also says that you saved the day at the wedding.'

'Yeah, but I didn't kill anyone.'

McGonagall paused for a moment. 'Do you _want _to kill them, Harry?'

Harry had thought long and hard about this, and yes, he wanted to see everyone from the other side dead. But not only that, he wanted to be the one to kill them.

'Every last one of them,' Harry told her, his stomach churning. He remembered the first time he met Professor McGonagall and frowned, because he had been so innocent and so optimistic, and now, he was reaching inside of his robes to grip his wand, the wand he would gladly use to murder anyone who crossed his path. 'I suppose that makes me just as bad as Voldemort.'

'Lord Voldemort and his followers kill because it makes them feel powerful,' she said. 'Does the thought of taking another life make you feel that way?'

'It makes me feel like shite,' he admitted. 'But … a part of me feels good about it. And it's scary. A part of me wants to do it, wants to see them cry out in pain and beg me for their lives.'

'Is this regarding what happened to Miss Weasley?'

Harry shook his head. 'This isn't about Ginny. This … this is about Ron,' he said.

'Mr Weasley would not have wanted you to become a murderer for him,' McGonagall said softly, and Harry nodded.

'I know. But if I had been to one to – to die, d'you honestly think Ron would've sat around twiddling his thumbs?'

'Certainly not. But is violence the answer?'

'They killed Ron,' he said, feeling frustrated that someone as smart as McGonagall couldn't understand his need to avenge his best friend. 'They killed Ron, and I'm going to kill them.'

'They did not _all_ kill Mr Weasley,' she said.

'They certainly didn't save him, though.'

'I did not save him. Miss Granger and Miss Weasley did not save him, either,' she said. 'Are you going to kill us, as well?'

Harry laughed at this, because it was ridiculous that he was having this conversation with McGonagall. It was ridiculous that they were at Ron's funeral. It was ridiculous that Hermione, the most logical person Harry had ever known, thought Ron was alive when he was clearly dead.

Harry turned and met McGonagall's eyes again. 'If Snape was here,' he said, 'if he was here, right now, standing in front of you just as I am, would you do it? Would you raise your wand and kill him?'

'Potter –'

'He killed Professor Dumbledore! He pointed his wand and killed the greatest wizard alive without a second bloody thought! _Does Snape deserve mercy_?'

'No.'

'Would you kill him? Would you do it for Dumbledore?'

There was no answer.

'_Would you_?'

'Yes,' McGonagall whispered, and Harry unconsciously took a step back.

'There,' he said, knowing that he was probably staring at her in shock but suddenly felt unable to rearrange his face. 'You would kill Snape because he killed Dumbledore. It's not any different that me killing someone else on that side.'

'It _is _different,' she argued, 'because I am old and responsible for my actions.'

'I'm responsible for mine, too!'

'You are a child,' she continued, as if he hadn't spoken. 'You should not be forced into deciding whether or not someone deserves to live. You should not be forced to take another's life.'

'Well, isn't that a double-edged sword, Professor? Am I not the one who has to kill Voldemort?' he asked. McGonagall said nothing. '_"And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not _…_ and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives _…" Why is it okay for me to kill Voldemort because I'M HARRY POTTER AND I HAVE TO, but it isn't okay for me to kill the rest simply because I'm Harry and my best friend is Ron, and he was killed by one of them?'

McGonagall looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly together. 'I will not teach you to kill,' she said. 'But I will teach you to harness your wandless magic so you can do any spell you chose to. And … and it is not up to me to decide which spells they will be.'

'My wandless magic … it isn't as significant as you make it out to be,' Harry said, feeling self-conscious and slightly frightened by the fact that McGonagall had sort of given him permission to commit murder. 'I can't decide when to use it, anyway. It just sort of comes and goes. I don't think it's something that I'll ever be able to, er, _harness_, as you said.'

'Perhaps,' McGonagall said slowly, as though considering this. 'But it is worth a try. Surely you have noticed strange things happening around us lately.'

Harry almost grinned. 'I can do _magic_. Tell me one thing about that sentence that doesn't seem strange.'

'Stranger things than usual, then,' McGonagall corrected herself.

'How d'you mean?'

'Take the disappearance of Mr Ollivander, for example.'

'Okay. Um … well, I suppose it _is_ an awfully large mystery, now that you mention it.'

'There is no mystery involved,' McGonagall said darkly. 'Voldemort has Ollivander and all of the others, I am sure of this. And do you know why?'

'Er, no,' admitted Harry.

'Your wand is the brother to Lord Voldemort's wand. Correct?' asked McGonagall.

Harry nodded. 'So … you think that Voldemort's having Ollivander make him a new wand? A wand he can use against me without it going all funny-like?'

'It is a possibility. Which is what makes your wandless magic so much more important. Lord Voldemort will be able to use his wand against you in ways he is not currently able to,' she explained. 'But you will be able to use your _mind _against him in ways you are not currently able to.'

Harry shrugged. 'Ron seemed to think that my wandless magic was a big deal,' Harry said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. 'He said it was wicked. He said that I could do some great things … but what's the point in doing great things if you can't even save your best mate?'

'You can prevent this from happening again to someone you love,' she offered gently. 'Regardless of your feelings, I feel it is important that you train with me. Please say that you will consider it.'

Harry sighed. 'I'll consider it.'

'Thank you,' McGonagall said. She inhaled and looked back up at him. 'I cannot pretend that I understand what you are feeling right now, Harry, because I do not. Ronald Weasley was –'

'You're right, you don't understand,' Harry said sharply. 'Nobody does. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find Hermione, because she's the only other person who could _possibly _understand, but for some reason, she refuses to accept the simple fact that our best mate is never coming home.'

He trudged away from McGonagall, unsure of why he lashed out at her, but knowing that it had everything to do with his, Hermione's and Ron's shattered friendship.

……………………………………………………………

'I think I'm going to go take a walk,' Ginny told Angelina.

'Do you want me to come with you?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No, I'll be okay. You should go find Fred,' she offered. Angelina hesitated for a moment before leaving to go find her boyfriend.

Ginny's head was buzzing as she set off down one of the worn-in paths and looked around. There were so many graves, so many people buried in this cold, hard ground. And her brother was one of them, now.

No, he wasn't, because they didn't find his body. Ginny shivered, not wanting to think about what those bastards had done with Ron's body. The word _Inferius _came to mind.

Ginny knew that what happened to Ron wasn't her fault. She had to believe it, for several reasons. She'd go crazy if she thought that she was responsible for her favourite brother's death. She wouldn't be able to look her mother in the eye.

There was nothing she could do, anyway. She couldn't help that Lucius Malfoy had given her a diary when she was eleven and Voldemort was after her now.

It wasn't as if she'd _known_ when she had gone to the pond during the wedding that she was giving Malfoy and Lestrange the perfect opportunity to snatch her.

Besides, she couldn't keep telling Harry it wasn't his fault – that it was the Death Eaters' faults – if she really thought it was hers.

A part of her wished that she hadn't been so close with Ron, though. If they had fought more, if they hadn't always hung around each other at Hogwarts … maybe it would've been easier to deal with his death. But, then again, it might have been harder. She might have wished that they had been closer. Really, in a situation such as this, there was no middle ground to grief.

'Do you _want _to kill them, Harry?'

Ginny nearly jumped when she heard Professor McGonagall speak.

She hadn't realized that she was close to them. She knew that McGonagall had wanted to talk to Harry in private. She knew that she should go …

'Every last one of them.'

Ginny felt her knees go weak.

'I suppose that makes me just as bad as Voldemort,' said Harry. Ginny shook her head at this, though he couldn't see her. Harry would _never _be _anything _like Voldemort!

'Lord Voldemort and his followers kill because it makes them feel powerful. Does the thought of taking another life make you feel that way?' asked McGonagall. Ginny crept closer and a branch snapped under her foot. She winced and held her breath, hoping they hadn't heard her. When their conversation was not interrupted, Ginny exhaled in relief and sat down on a nearby tree stump.

'It makes me feel like shite. But a part of me feels good about it, and it's scary,' said Harry. 'A part of me wants to do it, wants to see them cry out in pain and beg me for their lives.'

She could hear the pain in his voice and wanted to go to him, but knew that she couldn't because she wasn't even supposed to hear this conversation.

'Is this regarding what happened to Miss Weasley?'

Ginny wanted to cry at the thought that she had roused this sort of hatred inside of Harry.

'This isn't about Ginny,' he said, and she was almost too relieved to hear what he said next. 'This … this is about Ron.'

'Mr Weasley would not have wanted you to become a murderer for him,' said McGonagall.

'I know,' Harry said. 'But if I had been to one to – to die, d'you honestly think Ron would've sat around twiddling his thumbs?'

'Certainly not,' was McGonagall's answer. 'But is violence the answer?'

Ginny shook her head and prayed that Harry would come to his senses and quit talking about wanting to kill people.

'They killed Ron,' said Harry, as if this explained everything, which it did not. 'They killed Ron, and I'm going to kill them.'

'They did not _all_ kill Mr Weasley,' McGonagall said reasonably.

'They certainly didn't save him, though,' Harry countered.

'I did not save him. Miss Granger and Miss Weasley did not save him, either. Are you going to kill us, as well?'

She heard Harry laugh and wished that she had picked a different spot to eavesdrop, because she couldn't see his face from where she currently was.

'If Snape was here … if he was here, right now, standing in front of you just as I am, would you do it? Would you raise your wand and kill him?' Harry asked, and Ginny felt her heart plummet into her stomach.

'Potter –'

Ginny felt hope at McGonagall's annoyed tone. McGonagall would be logical about this. She would talk Harry out of going after Snape.

'He killed Professor Dumbledore!' Harry exclaimed. 'He pointed his wand and killed the greatest wizard alive without a second bloody thought!'

'Oh, Harry …' Ginny whispered. He was so wrong about everything.

'Does Snape deserve mercy?' Harry demanded.

_Yes_, Ginny thought. _He deserves mercy because you don't bloody know the facts. You're condemning him for no reason._

'No,' was Professor McGonagall's reply. Ginny gasped and sat up a little straighter.

'Would you kill him?' questioned Harry. 'Would you do it for Dumbledore?' McGonagall didn't answer right away, so Harry prodded, '_Would you_?'

'Yes,' McGonagall said in a hard voice that made Ginny worried – so worried, in fact, that she found herself on her feet and about to scream at them.

Then, she remembered her promise and shut her mouth. She owed Snape her life and all she had been able to give him in return was her word. She wasn't about to go back on that.

'_Get away from me,' Ginny demands, but he doesn't move._

'_Quiet, Weasley,' he orders, glaring at her just as he did throughout five years of Potions classes. 'There is no time. Listen carefully.'_

'_Why should I listen to anything _you _have to say? You _… _you killed Professor Dumbledore!'_

'_Shut up,' Snape says sharply, and Ginny sees a flicker of _…_ something_ …_ in his eyes. 'I am not going to help you if you continue to act like a brat.'_

_Ginny is momentarily deflected by this. 'You're helping me?' she asks. 'But you're on their side.'_

'_I am not on any side. You will do well to remember that.'_

'_I _… _okay, fine,' says Ginny, because what else can she say to that? 'But still. You hate me. Don't you?'_

'_Yes,' he says simply, and then turns away from her. He holds out his hand to silence her for a minute, his features twisted in concentration, as if he is listening for something. 'Like I said before,' he continues after a moment, 'we do not have much time. If you are ever going to get out of here, you will need to trust me. Can you do that?'_

'_No,' Ginny says truthfully. 'I'll try, though.'_

'_Very well,' he says._

'_I don't get this. You say you're going to help me. Why didn't you just stay away from me in the first place? That would've helped me a lot.'_

'_Just because I am not on a side does not mean I want either side knowing that.'_

_Ginny felt her brow furrow in confusion. 'That doesn't make sense.'_

'_Yes, it does,' he says in a cool tone. 'Are you through asking idiotic questions?'_

'_For now,' she says hesitantly, because even though he claims that he's going to help her, she knows she can't trust him. Snape hates her. He hates her family, Harry and Hermione. He has no reason to want to help her._

'_You will, of course, need to do something for me in exchange,' he tells her._

'_Of course,' she says dryly. She should have seen this coming. 'What is it? I never pegged you for the pervert type, you know.'_

_Snape stares at her._

'_Sorry,' she says, suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze. He smirks. Merlin, she loathes him._

'_It is a simple request; one I believe even _you _can manage.'_

_Ginny watches him intently._

'_If_ _you get out of this alive,' he says, and Ginny doesn't appreciate the way he says "if", 'you are not to tell anyone that I helped you. Especially Potter.'_

_Ginny doesn't understand. 'Why? Harry will kill you if he ever gets the chance to. If I tell him, then –'_

'_I do not need any favours,' Snape says darkly. 'Harry Potter and I are not, nor will we ever be, on the same side. He thinks that I murdered Professor Dumbledore –'_

'_You did,' Ginny mutters._

'– _and if he chooses to come after me, to challenge me, then we will duel like men,' he concludes, ignoring her._

_Ginny has to ask. 'Are you afraid of Harry?'_

'_Do not make me laugh,' Snape says. 'You think too highly of your little boyfriend.' He sounds revolted, but Ginny can't be sure if he is sincerely unconcerned, or if he is simply a brilliant actor. He played the Order like a fiddle for years. Perhaps he is just _that _good._

'_How are you going to help me?' she asks._

'_You must promise, first,' he says. 'Promise that you will not tell anyone.'_

'_I promise,' she says, wondering what the big deal is. She wonders if he realizes that this promise means virtually nothing to her._

'_We need a third party to make an Unbreakable Vow,' he says, 'so I suppose I will have to take you at your word.'_

_Ginny nods, because she doesn't really know what an Unbreakable Vow is. She remembers Fred and George trying to get Ron to do one when they were all really little, but that's about it._

'_When you are asked of what happened here, you are to tell them that I tortured you. Do you understand?'_

'_Sure. I understand.'_

Ginny snapped out of it and hid as Harry marched past her, looking angry and confused. She knew better than to follow him.

……………………………………………………………

The man was reading a newspaper, one that Joe had handed him once he had finished with it.

There was an article on Harry Potter on the front page. The man didn't know why he cared so much about this bloke, to be honest. So what if he had saved the wizarding world, and so what if he might do it again? Was Harry Potter really _that _important? Maybe he was just some over-celebrated sod. Maybe he wasn't as great as he was cracked up to be. Maybe he wouldn't even survive this war.

For some reason, the thought of Harry Potter dying tied the man's stomach up in knots.

The man didn't really like thinking about the war and what it was doing to people all around the world, but he found himself anticipating each day, waiting for a newspaper, waiting for a new article on what Harry and his friends were doing. The man would read and re-read each story, his heart jumping slightly each time a new name, like _Arthur Weasley _or _Percy Weasley_, was mentioned. This time, however, the article didn't mention those names. The only one the man can identify, other than _Harry Potter_, of course, is _Ginny Weasley_. The article mentioned a deceased Weasley but did not give a name, and the man was unnerved to find that he was rather curious on the matter. He wondered who these bloody Weasley people were. Once, there had been an article about a _Bill Weasley_, and how his wedding had been ruined by some sort of attack. The man didn't _—_

'_Don't get killed,' Harry tells him, and then runs off to fight, because that's what Harry does. Harry is the definition of hero and he wonders if Harry knows it. But Harry is gone now, and he must fend for himself. His thoughts are of Hermione, wondering where she is and if she even knows what's happening. He hopes that she is safe, that she is with Ginny and they are out of harm's way. Perhaps they will even be able to get help for the rest. _

_But then there is no time to think, because he's fighting and throwing out curses as if he isn't him – as if he's HARRY – and it's amazing and thrilling and he can't quite believe it. He feels afraid but oddly capable, as if this is finally his chance to prove himself as more than Harry's bumbling best mate. He looks around and all he can —_

'You okay?'

The man gasped and jumped back, wrenching his arm out of the stranger's grip.

It took the man a moment to come back to himself, to recognize who he was looking at. With a start, he realized that he was expecting to see Harry Potter's blazing green eyes, instead of Joe's lighter-coloured ones, staring back at him.

'Whoa, what was that?' asked Joe.

The man was taking deep, shaky breaths now. He shook his head at his friend.

'It was nothing.'

'It didn't look like nothing,' said Joe. He seemed nervous. Joe ran a hand through his curly blonde hair and eyed the man.

'I'm fine,' said the man.

Was he?

……………………………………………………………

'Do you remember the first time we met?' Hermione asked softly. It was past midnight and only Harry and Hermione were still up. Thankfully, Harry had managed to talk Hermione into keeping quiet about Ron for the time being. He had brought up the excellent point that Mrs Weasley was still fragile. If she didn't believe Hermione, then Hermione would be in the wrong for telling a grieving mother that her dead son wasn't really dead (when Harry knew that he really was). And if Mrs Weasley _did _believe Hermione, the shock, combined with the stress of having a funeral for one of her children, could do something funny to her.

Harry nodded at Hermione's question. 'Of course,' he said. 'It was on the train.' Hermione smiled faintly and nodded, as if she hadn't expected him to remember and was pleased that he actually did. 'You came in asking if anybody had seen Neville's toad. Even back then, you had to be on top of everything,' he laughed. Harry was starting to realize that it was okay to laugh. Ron, his best friend in the whole bloody world, was dead and would never laugh again, but Ron would want Harry to keep laughing. Ron would want Hermione to keep laughing. So maybe, even though it felt sort of wrong … maybe it was okay to laugh. At least in the privacy of each other's company.

Hermione chuckled, but it sounded just a bit forced. 'You must have thought I was the most annoying person in the world,' she said, a hitch in her voice making her sound truly vulnerable for the third time since Harry had known her, the first being at the Yule Ball, arguing with Ron, and the second being during Herbology, talking about the Slug Club Christmas party with Ron. It seemed that everything always came back to Ron in the end.

'Nah,' he said. 'I thought you were nice … a little intimidating how you fixed my glasses and all, mind you, but you were nice.'

'_You _thought _I _was intimidating?' she asked. She tossed her head back and laughed for real this time. 'You were a living legend, sitting about five feet away from me, eating a Chocolate Frog as if nothing had ever happened to you. You were so … fascinating.'

'Good of you to watch me like some animal in an exhibit,' he said without malice. 'But really, I thought you were okay.'

They fell silent for a moment.

'The Sorting Hat tried to put me in Ravenclaw,' said Hermione. Harry sat up a little straighter. 'In fact, I remember being so pleased with that. I had read in –'

'_Hogwarts: A History_,' Harry snickered.

'Yes,' Hermione said with a smile. 'I read in _there _that Ravenclaw was a very prestigious House. Only the brightest witches and wizards went there and it made me feel like maybe I belonged somewhere for once, that maybe I had a place at Hogwarts.'

'You always had a place,' Harry said. 'With us.'

Hermione met his eyes and nodded. 'The Hat changed its mind, though. I don't know why, really. But I can't stop thinking about what things would be like …'

Harry sighed. 'The Hat put you in Gryffindor because it knew that I would need you if I was ever going to live past first year.'

'You're right … I did save your sorry butt a few times,' she laughed. 'Ron's, too.'

Harry tensed.

'Sorry,' she whispered.

'No … don't be sorry. We should never feel sorry for thinking about Ron, for wanting to remember him.' Maybe, Harry thought, he could use this as an opportunity to make Hermione see that Ron was really dead. A part of him was tempted to nod his head and agree with her, to let himself believe that Ron was alive and coming home any minute now. But prolonging the realization that Ron was gone forever would only hurt more in the end. Harry didn't want Hermione to hurt any more than she already had to.

She sniffed and nodded. 'He called me a nightmare,' she continued. 'He hated me.'

'He didn't,' said Harry. 'If he had hated you, he wouldn't have cared that you heard him call you that, or that you ran off crying.' He sighed and put an arm around her. 'Ron was brave … but at eleven years old, there weren't many people he'd go fight a mountain troll for.'

'He told me he loved me,' Hermione whispered, her eyes closing. 'But then he grabbed the Portkey and left.'

'Oh,' was all Harry could bring himself to say.

'He left me, even though he claimed to … to love me,' she said bitterly. 'Part of me thinks he only said it to get me to let him go after Ginny,' she confided.

'That's not true,' Harry said instantly. 'He told me. Right before we left … I told him I loved Ginny and he said it. And he said it again before he … well, just before.'

Hermione smiled. 'When I thought that Ron was dead, a part of me hated myself because I had wasted so much time fighting with him. I had insulted him instead of telling him how I really felt. I wished that I could just go back and do it over again. But maybe, when he gets back … maybe we'll have a chance after all.'

Harry knew differently, but he didn't have the heart to tell her that their chance had long since passed.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny rolled over and closed her eyes tightly, attempting to fall asleep. No matter how hard she tried, though, she just couldn't clear her mind. Maybe she'd need to start learning Occlumency from Harry.

'_How long have I been here?' she wonders aloud when Snape returns. There have been four different shifts of Death Eaters (though there could've been more, perhaps she just passed out) in this room since Snape last left. Snape has come and gone twice since claiming he intended to help her, each time leaving her more and more confused with the situation. It feels like it has been days since she last saw Harry. At least, Ginny though weakly, only one of those Death Eater shifts had included a round of the Cruciatus Curse. She didn't think she could've taken any more than she had been given._

'_I can help you get out of here safely, or I can monitor a clock,' Snape barks. 'Which would you prefer?'_

'_Sorry,' Ginny says. She isn't sorry, not really, but she figures that kissing Snape's arse will be the most effective way of getting him to willingly help her._

_Snape, as usual, ignores her._

'_May I ask you something?' she asks after a moment, and she is almost unaware of her politeness at this point._

'_I daresay you will ask regardless of my answer,' he says, and it's the closest to a yes that Ginny is ever going to get with him._

'_Who are you loyal to? I mean, it's not the Order and I don't really know if it's Voldemort –'_

'_Do not say his name.'_

'_Why shouldn't I?' she asks, genuinely curious. 'It's only a name, after all.'_

_Snape does not answer. She decides to switch tactics._

'_Harry says you call him the Dark Lord.'_

'_I bet Potter says a lot of things and you do not ever bother to look beyond what he tells you,' Snape growls. 'Harry Potter is god to you.'_

'_And Voldemort is god to you.'_

'_You are annoying me,' he says._

'_And you are avoiding my questions,' she replies. 'Who are you loyal to?'_

_Snape spins around to look at her, the swooshing of his robe creating a breeze and making her shiver. Or perhaps it is the look on his face that makes her shiver._

'_Listen carefully, because I will only say this once: I am loyal to one person and one person only,' he says. 'I am loyal to Albus Dumbledore. Now, kindly stop pestering me, because I have already given you more than you deserve.'_

_Ginny doesn't say anything – partially because she has been ordered to keep quiet, partially because she is weak and does not want to waste more energy talking, and partially because she doesn't know what to say in response to Snape's comment. But the look in Snape's eyes each time they speak about Dumbledore really frightens her. _

……………………………………………………………

'What do you mean something is wrong?'

'I don't know, Lucius. I don't understand it. But he's remembering. Everyday, when I give him the paper and he reads about Potter, it has an affect on him. He is asking me questions and I can't keep avoiding the answers, or he'll start getting suspicious. His memory isn't as damaged as we'd hoped it would be when we Obliviated it. The curse we used wasn't strong enough, I suppose.'

'You're sure that he's remembering? Perhaps –'

'He is. I know for certain that he is. Today, when I was with him again, he remembered something else. I could tell by the look on his face. He still doesn't trust "Joe" enough to confide in him, though.'

'Well, you're just going to have to work a little harder, aren't you?'

'Yes, yes, I know. I will.'

'Good. If all else fails, we might have to kill him. However, that is our last resort. Do everything you can to keep him in the state he's in now.'

'Yes. But I don't understand why we didn't do away with him when we first got hold of him. Why not just blast him away instead of sending –'

'Do _not_ question the Dark Lord's orders.'

'I'm not! I'm merely wondering if it is smart to keep him as he is. Even from across the world, he is still powerful. He is still connected to Potter and Granger. That Granger girl is too smart; she'll figure this out, Lucius.'

'Perhaps, and this is why we are working on separating her from Potter as well. And the Weasley girl, she'll have to go, too. Once Potter stands alone, he will be easy to destroy.'

'That is true, Potter needs his friends. But … it will only be a matter of time before this one starts to remember.'

'Then try to get us as much time as you can. Once the Dark Lord defeats Potter, it really doesn't matter _what_ Weasley remembers.'

……………………………………………………………


	25. Training and Dumbledore

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Training and Dumbledore  
**……………………………………………………………

'What do you want me to do?' Harry asked McGonagall.

It was two days after Ron's funeral, and Harry's first training session had just begun. He had been instructed to Floo to Hogwarts bright and early (though Harry didn't think the term _bright _applied, since the sun wasn't really out yet), and meet McGonagall in the Great Hall, which had been emptied out. It was strange being in Hogwarts, and Harry wasn't so sure that he'd be able to attend many training sessions if they were all to be held here. He made a mental note to ask McGonagall if they could relocate.

Harry stood over the place where the Gryffindor table had been and tried not to think of all the mornings he had spent there, wishing that he could have been somewhere else. Now, Harry would give anything to be back there. He could almost hear the sounds of owls fluttering through the open windows, delivering the mail. He could almost hear Ron's loud, booming voice as he talked excitedly about Quidditch, and Hermione's irritated tone as she lectured him about talking with his mouth full.

Professor McGonagall was walking in a circle around him, and Harry wondered if she noticed that she was doing so. He wished that she'd stop; he had to turn with her, to keep her in his sights, and he was starting to get dizzy.

He stifled a yawn. It was _so _bloody early. He wouldn't have even bothered getting up if Mrs Weasley hadn't come into Ginny's room and woken him up herself.

_That _was awkward, and even though Harry didn't particularly want to be training now, he was glad for an excuse not to be at The Burrow. Ginny would no doubt be getting a lecture from her mum about why it wasn't proper for a girl to sleep in the same bed as her boyfriend when nobody else was there to make sure they behaved. Mrs Weasley had known all along of Ginny and Harry's sleeping arrangements – of this, Harry was sure – but it was only now, since Hermione refused to sleep anywhere but in Ron's bed, that it was a real issue.

If Harry knew one thing about Ginny, though, it was that she was stubborn – even more than Ron had been. If her mum told her that Harry wasn't allowed to sleep in her bed anymore … well, Ginny wouldn't take that. She'd simply insist that they were responsible and that they weren't doing anything inappropriate, until her mum saw reason and caved. Mrs Weasley always seemed to have a weak spot when it came to Ginny and Harry. And really, why _couldn't _they share a bed, if they weren't doing anything but sleeping?

Of course, they were doing a _little_ more than sleeping. They were doing things that they wouldn't do if Hermione was sleeping in the next bed. Things that would probably land Mrs Weasley in St Mungo's, if she only knew. And Harry would be in right behind her, because each and every one of Ginny's brothers would probably hex him into next week.

But it wasn't as if they were _shagging_, so why _couldn't _they put up a Silencing Charm and night and enjoy each other? They were only doing what any other couple their age was doing. The only difference was that Harry might not live to see his next birthday, and maybe, if this was all he and Ginny were ever going to get of each other, they shouldn't waste it.

McGonagall finally stopped moving around. 'For today, I would like to work on your wandless magic,' she said.

Harry hadn't thought he needed to tell her that he couldn't control his wandless magic and, most of the time, didn't even _know _when he was doing it … but he did, apparently.

'Um,' said Harry. 'How're we going to do that? I mean … it isn't like normal magic, Professor. Am I just going to wave my hands around and shout out spells until something actually happens?' he asked skeptically, thinking that it sounded ridiculous and she had to see reason.

McGonagall nodded. 'Yes,' she said, pulling out her wand. 'That is _exactly _what you are going to do.'

Harry was waiting for her to crack a smile, to shake her head and tell him that she was kidding, that there was another, _easier _way to go about this … but she didn't.

But a part of him expected it. As he was beginning to learn – _no_, as he had always known but hadn't before realized that it applied to every single aspect of his life – things did not come easy to him.

McGonagall raised her wand and Conjured a feather. 'It would probably be too difficult to use non-verbal spells while you are still inexperienced. Therefore, you may speak aloud for the time being.'

'Oh. Okay. Thanks?'

Harry didn't know if he should be relieved, because he could yell out the spells today, or worried, because he'd eventually have to use his non-verbal skills, and he still wasn't too sure that he even _had _those sorts of skills. While he may have gotten away with whispering the incantations under his breath before, in a classroom with dozens of other students, he knew that he wouldn't have the same chance now, in a one-on-one session with McGonagall.

McGonagall took two steps back. 'Use a Summoning Charm to bring this feather to you.'

Without thinking, Harry reached into his pocket and grabbed his wand. Realizing what he was doing, he smiled sheepishly and pocketed it again. Shite. It was going to be more difficult than he'd thought.

He suddenly felt very stupid, standing in the now-empty Great Hall with his arm stretched out, saying '_Accio_' and watching as nothing happened. He tried shouting and he tried whispering. He tried it with his eyes wide open and with his eyes shut tight. The feather didn't move once, not even the slightest bit. Harry desperately wanted to grab his wand and make the bloody thing come to him already, but he knew that McGonagall would only lecture him for not taking these lessons seriously.

By the time McGonagall proposed they take a break, she was standing significantly closer to Harry, but the feather still had not budged. The sun, however, was now clearly visible in the sky. He vaguely wondered why he had even bothered accepting McGonagall's help with this. It wasn't as if he'd _ever _make any improvement.

He wondered what Ginny was doing. Upon checking a clock, though, he realized that she was probably just waking up. He wished that he could just go back to The Burrow and forget that he had ever done wandless magic. Maybe using it would help him beat Voldemort, like McGonagall had said. But it wouldn't do him any good if he couldn't figure out _how_ to use it in the first place.

'Come, Harry,' said McGonagall.

'Where're we going?'

'Albus wishes to speak with you.'

Harry swallowed thickly and forced his legs to follow her. He had forgotten that Dumbledore's portrait hung in his old office. He certainly hadn't realized that he would be given the opportunity to speak with him. He wondered what he should say. Should he apologize? Should he ask Dumbledore _why _he had _ever _thought Snape was on their side?

Question after question entered his mind as they approached the entrance to the office he had spent so many hours in over the years. McGonagall muttered the password – it was the same as it had been the night Harry was there to go searching for that Horcrux with Dumbledore. _Of course_, Harry realized, causing his stomach to twist uncomfortably,_ Dumbledore wasn't alive after that night to change it_.

Knowing full well that any speech he prepared on his way would leave him the minute he saw Dumbledore looking at his through his portrait, Harry followed McGonagall into the office.

……………………………………………………………

'Things are not as they seem, Harry.'

'What does that mean, though?' asked Harry, sighing in frustration. 'I'm tired of people talking in riddles. _What _isn't as it seems?'

He was long since past being tongue-tied and not knowing what to say to Dumbledore. He had already apologized profusely and Dumbledore had already told him not to be silly.

Dumbledore looked truly apologetic. 'I cannot tell you.'

'Why not?' Harry demanded.

'In your third year at Hogwarts, I allowed you and Miss Granger to use the Time Turner to travel back in time and save Sirius Black.'

Harry furrowed his brow. 'So?'

'Many rules were broken that night,' said Dumbledore. 'But one rule – perhaps the most important one – was upheld.' Harry raised his eyebrows at his former Headmaster. 'It was absolutely necessary that you did not run into yourself while attempting to rescue your godfather and Buckbeak. Do you know why?'

'Because I would've thought I'd gone nutters?'

Dumbledore shook his head. 'Sometimes, we are not meant to know things, even though we think that we are, until we are truly ready for them,' he explained. 'Sometimes, we must let things play out as they would naturally.'

'How the bloody hell is any of this _natural_? Is it natural for seventeen-year-olds to die, Professor?'

Dumbledore did not reply.

'_Is it_?'

'No, Harry. It is not.'

'You should tell that to Ron.'

Dumbledore paused for a moment. 'You are going to have to learn to trust others, Harry. You cannot fix everyone's problems. In many cases, the best way to help someone is to make them help themselves.'

'What if you're wrong?' asked Harry. 'What if you're wrong about … this thing that you're talking about … this thing you can't tell me about?' He sighed. 'I mean, you were wrong about Snape, after all.' As soon as the words left his mouth, Harry knew they were probably a mistake.

But Dumbledore merely raised his eyebrows. 'Was I?' he asked. Harry nodded grimly. 'Another thing that you must learn is to separate your emotions from your decisions.'

'You mean to say,' said Harry slowly, 'that you don't hate Snape for what he did?'

'_Professor_ Snape,' said Dumbledore, and Harry was amazed at his nerve.

'_Snape _is no longer my professor,' said Harry.

'Just as I am no longer your professor,' said Dumbledore. 'But it is a courtesy that I hope you will not soon forget.'

Harry shrugged. 'Fine. _Professor_ _Snape_,' he said, drawing out the words.

'No, I do not hate Severus for what he did,' Dumbledore answered. 'I have not earned the right to hate him, and neither have you, Harry.'

Harry was dumbfounded. 'He – _he_ _killed_ _you_!' he cried. 'And he all but killed my parents … He played the Order for years … He kidnapped Ginny! What _hasn't _he done? I hate him, sir. I have the right to hate him.'

'Do you?'

'I – yes, I do!'

Dumbledore bowed his head. 'How is your training?' he asked, changing the subject completely.

'Not good,' said Harry truthfully. 'I don't think I'm ever going to get it.'

'You have only just begun,' Dumbledore said. 'If you remain dedicated to the program Minerva has designed for you, I am confident you will see results very soon.'

Harry shrugged. 'Maybe. I … I don't know.'

'And have you made any progress regarding the Horcruxes?'

Harry shook his head. He didn't want to tell Dumbledore that, really, Horcruxes were the _last _thing on his mind right now, behind Ron being dead and Hermione being in denial and training with McGonagall and countless other things.

'Not since Romania,' he said.

'I see,' said Dumbledore. 'I am aware that many things have happened recently, but I must remind you not to let the Horcruxes stray too far from your mind. It is imperative to –'

'Yeah, I know,' Harry said. 'But … sir, if I spend five days in the week training and the rest of the time looking for the remaining Horcruxes …' He was suddenly very interested in his shoes. 'Well, I mean … I'm not going to have any time for, um, Ginny.'

He looked up, feeling silly, and Dumbledore was smiling. 'I am sure you will find a way,' he said. 'Of course, you and Miss Weasley will have to make certain sacrifices …'

'I'm not giving up my time with Ginny,' Harry said firmly. He stood from his chair, suddenly restless, and paced the room. 'Last term … you sat here and told me that the key to destroying Voldemort is love. And – and now, after I've finally figured out that it's been staring me in the face for _years_, you decide to tell me that the key isn't just love, it's a whole lot of other things, too.'

'As you will soon learn –'

'Why _soon_?' Harry demanded. 'Why can't people just tell me things if they think I need to know them so bloody badly? Why are they trying to protect me from something that I'm going to have to face eventually? Why do they make decisions about my life that aren't theirs to make? I thought you, of all people, would realize this … you've done it to me before, you've said so yourself!' Harry knew that he was getting worked up and tried to take a calming breath before continuing. 'I – I just don't understand why everyone trusts me to save the wizarding world, but they don't trust me enough to tell me the truth. Why does everyone think I can't handle hearing bad news? I – my entire _life _has just been one bad thing after another … I'd like to think I can take it by now,' he said bitterly.

'I understand your frustration,' said Dumbledore, and Harry wanted to ask him if he really did, or if he was just saying he did. Because he didn't see how Dumbledore – how _anyone _– could understand. 'It seems our conversation has run longer than it should have. You should be off. Minerva is waiting for you in the Great Hall, I believe.'

Harry nodded and walked to the door. 'Sir …' he said, pausing, 'if I may ask … do you have any other portraits? And … where are they?'

Dumbledore smiled. 'Before I died, I arranged to have three portraits of myself put up. One, of course, is here. Also, if you take a look around Grimmauld Place, I believe you will find me.' He narrowed his eyes. 'And my third portrait,' he said, in a voice that made Harry feel as though he should know something he didn't, 'is in Spinner's End.'

'Oh,' Harry said, feeling quite the fool. He left the office and returned to the Great Hall, taking quick, frustrated steps. Why did talks with Dumbledore always serve to confuse him even more? He thought, after the night of the incident in the Department of Mysteries, that he had _earned _the right to know the truth – especially when the truth concerned him in such a way. And he thought that his relationship with Dumbledore was better than _this_. He had spent countless evenings last term in Dumbledore's office, learning about the Horcruxes and talking about important things. Now, however, it seemed Harry was right back where he started from.

Angrier than he knew he should be, Harry stormed through the large doors of the Great Hall and found McGonagall waiting for him.

'Are you ready to continue?' she asked, seemingly hesitant. She was still clutching the feather in her hand.

'Let's go,' he said. He reached out his hand and shouted, '_Accio_!'

His voice echoed off the walls, but when it died down, McGonagall's sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room as the feather flew from her open palm and toward Harry. It lost momentum just before it reached his fingertips and gently floated down to the floor, but the message was clear to both McGonagall and Harry: Harry _could _control his wandless abilities.

……………………………………………………………

Hermione walked into the kitchen and gasped.

'Mrs Weasley!' she cried.

Mrs Weasley looked up from her tea. 'What's wrong, dear?'

Hermione pointed at the clock. 'You – where's Ron's name?'

She was met with silence for a moment.

'I – I took it off,' Mrs Weasley said guiltily. 'It's too hard to look at it.'

She took it off? Hermione couldn't believe it. Nobody in this house spoke of Ron. With the exception of Hermione, and sometimes Harry, nobody went into Ron's room. It was almost as if Ron had never lived at The Burrow. Were they trying to forget him? Did they think that ignoring the problem made it go away?

'Did you happen to notice what his hand was pointing at before you got rid of it?' she asked.

'It was pointed at _Lost_, of course,' said Mrs Weasley.

Hermione knew that she should tell Mrs Weasley. Ron was alive and if anyone deserved to know, it was his mother. But Hermione didn't know how the woman would react. She would either believe Hermione, or she wouldn't understand and be completely outraged. Hermione had to go for it, though. There was this … feeling inside of her. And maybe, if anyone else was going to feel that same feeling, Mrs Weasley would.

She looked at Ginny. Harry had probably told her all about their previous discussion. He probably had Ginny completely convinced that Hermione was insane.

Perhaps Harry hadn't said a word to Ginny, though. Perhaps Hermione could tell Mrs Weasley and Ginny how she knows Ron is alive, and they'd believe her, and Ginny would convince Harry.

Really, it didn't matter if everyone thought she was crazy. But Hermione _needed _Harry to believe her. For as long as she could remember, they were always on the same side of things. Granted, they had disagreed over what to do with the Prince's Potion book (… but hadn't she been _right _about that?), but it had been okay back then.

Now … now, this was much more serious than the Prince. She was losing her best friends. Ron was gone, disappearing off to _somewhere_ and not coming back for reasons unknown. Harry was spending most of his time with Ginny, and it appeared that the rest of his time would soon be spent training. Plus, he had to spend some time searching for Horcruxes. There was also the aftermath of the Final Battle to take into consideration.

Why did it feel like everything important in her life was moving away from her?

'Look,' she said, sitting down. 'I have to say something. And you might be a little skeptical at first … but hear me out. Please?'

'Of course,' said Mrs Weasley. Ginny smiled weakly and nodded.

'It's about Ron,' said Hermione. 'He's not dead.'

The silence was thick and heavy.

Mrs Weasley cleared her throat. 'I'm sorry,' she said slowly. 'What did you say?'

'He's alive,' Hermione said. 'The clock said he was _Lost _because … because he isn't dead.'

'Hermione,' said Ginny softly. 'That's enough.'

'Yes,' said Mrs Weasley. 'When a person d-dies, their hand on the clock will always point to _Lost_.'

'How do you _know_?' asked Hermione. 'Maybe –'

Mrs Weasley sighed. 'My mother had the same clock in her house,' she explained. 'She had a hand for each of her children. When my brothers, Gideon and Fabian, passed away, their hands pointed to _Lost_.'

'That doesn't mean anything, though!'

'That's _enough_,' Ginny repeated.

'It means quite a bit,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Their hands were pointed at _Lost _because their souls are gone forever. And my R-Ronnie's soul is g-gone forever, t-too.' She sniffed and dropped her gaze to the table.

Hermione wasn't convinced.

'Mrs Weasley,' she said desperately. 'Don't you understand? I – I can feel it!'

'My son is dead, Hermione,' she said, still staring resolutely at the table. 'Let him have his peace.'

'He _isn't _dead! It sounds crazy, I know. But I know it's true. If Ron was dead, I would accept it. I would let him go. I'm not a complete _lunatic_! He isn't, though. And I can't pretend that he is! Harry said that –'

'Harry knows?' asked Ginny. 'Harry knows that you're saying these things and he didn't tell anyone?'

'He doesn't believe me, either,' said Hermione.

Mrs Weasley sniffed dramatically.

'Because you're insane!' said Ginny. 'My brother is dead. End of story. No matter how much you say otherwise, you won't bring him back.'

'If you would just listen to –'

'I've heard _enough_,' said Ginny fiercely. 'You're upsetting Mum!'

'I'm not trying to!' said Hermione. 'I'm just –'

'ENOUGH!' cried Ginny, standing up. 'What is _wrong _with you! Ron is _dead_. He's gone.'

'He isn't,' said Hermione passionately, looking at Mrs Weasley again. Surely, she would understand. She had to. She would see the truth in Hermione's eyes.

But Mrs Weasley wouldn't meet Hermione's eyes.

'I think,' said Mrs Weasley slowly, 'that it would be best for everyone if we all just dropped this discussion.' She stood up. 'Excuse me,' she said, and then left the room.

'Good going,' Ginny spat.

'Ginny,' Hermione pleaded. 'You know that I'm not making this up. Maybe you don't want to accept it … but you _know _it's true. Ron was your brother. You must feel something. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that he's dead?'

Ginny walked over to Hermione and stopped inches from her face. Her cheeks were bright red and her eyes were glistening with tears. 'Ron is dead,' she said. 'But the rest of us aren't. And how _dare _you bring up this rubbish around Mum?'

'Ginny –'

'Save it,' said Ginny, brushing past her and following her mum out of the room.

……………………………………………………………

'Hey, Joe,' shouted the man over the music in the club. He hadn't wanted to come here, but Joe had insisted on it. He said it would be fun. So far, though, the man wasn't having any fun. 'Bellatrix Lestrange … who is she?'

Joe looked up from his drink. 'What? Who told you about her?'

The man shrugged. 'Nobody. I read about her in the paper you gave me this morning.'

'Oh,' said Joe.

'So?' asked the man. 'Who is she?'

'Don't worry about it,' he said dismissively. 'You know who you _should _be thinking about? That girl over there. She's watching you.'

The man looked up and saw that a girl in the corner – one with long, straight blonde hair and a very pretty smile – was indeed watching him.

Joe nudged him. 'Go for it.'

Feeling slightly self-conscious (perhaps she wasn't looking at _him_)the man grinned and went over to her. 'Hello, there,' he said. 'Can I buy you a drink?'

She smiled. 'I've already got one,' she said. 'But you can certainly buy yourself one and join me, if you'd like.'

Oh, he'd definitely like that. He sat down at the bar beside her and ordered a Firewhisky.

Several drinks later, the girl – Rachel – grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. 'Let's dance,' she said seductively, pulling him to the centre of the dance floor.

He didn't want to dance. Really, though, what they were doing couldn't be called _dancing_. She was rubbing her gorgeous body against his in an altogether delicious way and his head was swimming from the Firewhisky.

Rachel pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. He could taste the alcohol on her and didn't like it. She moaned in his mouth and when she wrapped her arms around his neck, he resisted the urge to push her away. Something about her was wrong.

But that was ridiculous. She was funny, sexy, and brilliant at snogging.

Still, something about her was wrong. _—_

'_I love you,' he whispers. He mentally screams then, calling himself an idiot for ever telling her that. Hermione doesn't love him, and he's gone and scared her now, hasn't he? She's not going to be able to look at him when he gets back. He feels her let go of his arm. And when he pulls his mouth away from her ear, she is staring at him in absolute shock. _

'_What?'_

_She sounds scared. For a moment, he isn't sure if she's scared of him going off, or of his feelings for her. Perhaps she is afraid of her feelings for him._

_But he sees it in her eyes. And he knows._

_She loves him. She always has._

_And he wants to kiss her again. He wants to brush that beautiful brown hair out of her even more beautiful face and wipe away her tears, but he can't. He is needed elsewhere. Isn't he?_

_He feels a sense of panic and thrill when Kingsley begins counting to three. He has to go. He wants to go. But he doesn't want to leave. _

'_We'll talk when I get back,' he says._

_Her face falls, as if she momentarily forgot that he is leaving, and he hates himself for having to choose between his sister and the love of his life. He wonders if he is making the right choice._

_Hell, he isn't even making the choice. There is no choice. There is no contest, no debate, no _question_ about it._

_But he still has to go after Ginny, in spite of it. She needs him more now. At least, he thinks she does._

_There is a tugging at his navel and the last clear image he sees before he is gone is of her._

_Because, really, she is all he's ever been able to see clearly. —_

The man pushed her away gently and gasped.

'What's wrong?' she asked.

He couldn't even begin to tell her everything that was wrong.

He was having flashes of people he didn't know, places he had never been. He could see them clear as day, but as soon as the flash was done, he would not be able to pick them out of a lineup. He knew there was a girl. But who was she? What was she to him?

'I – I think it's time I leave,' he told her over the music. 'You know, go home.'

'Want some company?'

He shook his head. He didn't think that was such a good idea – and not just because he was rooming with Joe, and didn't think it would be appropriate to bring some girl back, no matter how much Joe seemed to have encouraged it.

'No, thanks. I, uh, I'll see you around,' he said.

And then the man left, not bothering to grace Joe with an explanation when Joe caught his eye and threw up his hands in confusion.

The man was far more confused that Joe, anyway.

……………………………………………………………

**Dumbledore fascinates me, but, unfortunately, I don't write him nearly as well as JKR. To that note, don't flame me for disgracing his character. I've read worse.**

**As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	26. Unsettled

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Unsettled  
**……………………………………………………………

Much to his surprise, Harry was actually making progress with his training. In the weeks that followed his first training session, he was finding that Summoning Charms, at least, were coming more easily to him. As he and Professor McGonagall soon discovered, his wandless magic was at its best when Harry was feeling a particularly strong emotion.

To be sure of this, McGonagall thought it best to conduct an experiment. Harry didn't see the point. It was quite obvious that this was the case, through and through.

Still, he was forced to comply with her wishes. She asked him to close his eyes and fill his mind with memories of Professor Sprout. Thinking this was extremely unusual, he did so, and when asked to Summon, one by one, half a dozen heavy books (taken from the Restricted section of the library) all lined up in a row on the table, he was barely able to move the first two toward him before his magic died out. He was then asked to think of Hagrid and his mind immediately conjured up the image of him pointing his pink umbrella at Dudley and giving his cousin a pig's tail. He was able to Summon five of the six books this time. And then, when asked to think of _Professor_ Snape, all six books flew at him with such force that the last (and heaviest) one nearly knocked him over.

Finally deciding that Harry had practiced Summoning Charms enough for now, Professor McGonagall informed him that they would be moving on and trying other spells. When she said this, Harry's mind went to human transfigurations, one of the last units they had done in sixth year. He wondered how in the world he would be able to do this, but forced himself to believe that he would be able to. After all, once he got the hang of it, it wouldn't be _too _hard to change his eyebrows to different colours, right?

McGonagall, of course, was thinking something a little bit different.

'You want me to do _what_?' Harry asked. The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

'Take this match and turn it into a needle,' McGonagall said. 'Honestly, what were you expecting we would start with? Human transfigurations?' she asked with an amused tone.

'I – no, of course not,' said Harry lamely. 'But … this was our very first lesson at Hogwarts … _ever_!'

'I am pleased that you remember your first Transfiguration lesson,' she said briskly. 'But yes, just as you had to begin at the bottom then, you must do so now – however unnecessary it may seem to you.'

Harry sighed but nodded. As he soon learned, though, this turning-a-match-into-a-needle business was harder than he'd remembered it being.

Somehow, miraculously, he got through it. And he got through the handful of other spells he was instructed to do. McGonagall was so pleased with his improvements that she worked with him tirelessly through the day and sometimes well past dinner and into the night, so not to lose any momentum. Though he never told her, he attributed any and all progress to the fact that he could close his eyes and replay certain things, awful things – he could see Snape kill Dumbledore, see Hermione lying perfectly still on the grass after Ginny had been taken, see Ginny in that dungeon, see Ron disappearing in Malfoy Manor – and use it as his motivation.

As to be expected, replaying the most disturbing moments in his life was rather draining. And, unfortunately, he was spending more time at Hogwarts doing just that than anything else.

McGonagall had informed him last week that he was to begin other aspects of his training. Each morning, Harry would work on his wandless magic with McGonagall. After midday, however, his schedule varied. Mondays were Occlumency lessons with Kingsley Shacklebolt, who, it turned out, was rather skilled at Occlumency and Legilimency. Tuesdays and Wednesdays included practicing armed combat and physical training with Tonks. On Thursdays and Fridays, he had NEWT-level Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons with Lupin.

Harry wanted to ask when – no, _if _– this workload would ever lighten, but he held his tongue. McGonagall would probably find some way to take offence to his words and give him a nice, long lecture about how he should be grateful that everyone was willing to help him. And although he was grateful, there was the small voice in the back of his mind whispering that he shouldn't be wasting his time on this.

He was rather disheartened to realize that this voice was Hermione's, and that it was whispering to quit training so much because he needed to find Ron.

……………………………………………………………

'Ginny.'

Ginny looked up to see Hermione standing in the doorway of her bedroom.

'Yes?'

'I, um, I think I left one of my books in here,' Hermione said.

Ginny stared at her, wondering what she was supposed to do about that.

'Would it be okay if I looked around for it?'

'Do whatever you want,' Ginny said, knowing she was being miserable and rude.

Really, though, why _couldn't _she be rude to Hermione? Wasn't Hermione the one who came up to Ginny and Mrs Weasley and starting saying crazy, untrue things that only made Ron's death hurt so much more? And wasn't Hermione the reason for the awkwardness between them?

Ginny had _every _right to yell at Hermione that day.

Ron was her brother. He was dead. And it might have even been because of Ginny's foolishness.

Just because Hermione and Ron had been … _whatever _they had been … that didn't give Hermione the right to blatantly _lie _and refuse to accept the fact that Ron was _dead_. And Hermione pretended that she really believed it. What rubbish. Hermione was the smartest, most logical person that Ginny'd ever met. There was no way she _really _believed that Ron was walking around somewhere, perfectly alive and well.

And _how dare she _say those things to Ginny's mum? Mrs Weasley was a mess. Maybe Harry and Hermione didn't realize the severity of her mum's grief, but Ginny did. Her brothers did, too. _They _had all grown up with her. They grew up with her tough-love tactics. And the fact that their mum hadn't raised her voice since Ron's death, weeks ago, was cause for concern. The house wasn't as tidy as it used to be. Nobody had been ordered into the backyard to de-gnome the garden since the wedding. Although it seemed stupid, the real clincher was that Mrs Weasley's cooking was a little … _off_.

Telling someone in that sort of state that their son _wasn't _dead (when he clearly was) just didn't fly for Ginny.

She watched as Hermione came into her bedroom and looked around awkwardly. Ginny considered telling Hermione that her book was on the desk, but then Hermione spotted it for herself. She smiled, and as she crossed the room to the small desk, Ginny wondered if Hermione actually _tried _to be a complete bookworm, or if it just came naturally. Either way, even though Ginny was still angry, she loved Hermione for it.

But when Hermione did not make to pick up her book, and simply stood there, instead, Ginny craned her neck to see what the girl was doing. She was holding something else in her hand.

Oh. _The picture_, she realized. She'd forgotten about it.

Colin had taken it just before everything went from bad to worse. It was of Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron. They were at Hogwarts in the picture – down by the lake, in fact. She remembered Colin walking by and saying that they looked so happy, the four of them, and then he'd insisted on taking their picture. They had all smiled and waved at the camera, except for Ron, who'd made stupid faces, as always. Hermione had elbowed him in the ribs and told him that his immaturity was ruining the picture, so he'd mussed up her hair and when she went to yell at him, he'd told her that her disgruntled appearance wasn't making the picture any nicer than his faces were.

Hermione turned so Ginny could see her face. She was smiling. It was a sad, wistful sort of smile, and it made Ginny's mouth feel too dry.

_She really thinks that Ron is alive._

Hermione looked up at Ginny then, and Ginny couldn't get past the thought that Hermione was perhaps the saddest person she'd ever known.

'I remember taking this,' said Hermione. 'It turned out nice.'

Ginny smiled, because "nice" was exactly the opposite of what Hermione had said the picture would be when they were posing for it.

Really, though, the picture was perfect.

It captured all of their personalities perfectly. Ron was being silly and he and Hermione were bickering, just as they always did. Harry had his arm slung around Ginny's shoulder in a protective, yet casual way, one that made Ginny smile.

'Yeah,' said Ginny. 'Yeah, it did.'

Hermione set the picture back down and picked up her book. 'Thanks,' she said, and then turned to leave.

Ginny knew that she had to say something now. But what could she say?

'Wait,' she called. Hermione stopped and turned back around. 'I …'

Shite, she was no good at this.

'I'm sorry.'

There. She said it.

Hermione just looked at her. 'You – you're sorry?' she asked.

Ginny forced herself to nod. 'Yeah. I mean … I am. I'm sorry that I snapped at you before.' She sighed and shifted, suddenly uncomfortable under Hermione's gaze. 'But … you've got to understand how insane you seemed.' _How insane you still seem. _'You … you can't just come downstairs and start saying stuff like that. Especially to Mum.'

Hermione looked down. 'I didn't mean to upset her.'

'I know,' said Ginny. 'But you did.'

'I feel really bad about that,' Hermione said sincerely, looking back up.

Ginny nodded. 'And I feel really bad about yelling at you. I … I don't know what came over me.'

But Ginny _did _know.

And every time she thought back to the conversation in the kitchen, she felt her angry building up again.

'It's fine,' said Hermione. 'I'll try to think before I say things like that from now on. I promise.'

Ginny smiled. 'Okay.'

'Okay,' said Hermione. 'Come on. Dinner should be ready by now.'

'Yeah, I'll be right there,' said Ginny. Hermione smiled and left.

It felt good to have cleared the air with Hermione. With Harry at training everyday, Hermione really was her only source of human contact other than her family – and even theyweren't always available to chat.

Still, though, Ginny couldn't help but dwell on the fact that Hermione hadn't directly apologized for saying such crazy things about Ron, or even bothered to explain _why _she had said them.

……………………………………………………………

'I almost forgot. A letter came for you, Ginny.'

Ginny looked up from her dinner.

'What?' she asked.

'A letter came for you. Just before you came down,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Here.'

Ginny reached her hand out and accepted the letter, feeling her heart drop upon reading the front.

_Ginny_, it said, in what was undoubtedly Dean's messy scrawl.

A part of her had been expecting this letter for several days. Upon hearing the news of Ron's death, Dean (and many others) had sent letters of condolences. He had said nice things, like, _Ron was one of the best blokes I've ever met_,and _I'm here for you_.

Her family hadn't responded to most of the letters (there had been an overwhelming amount, really), but Ginny felt she should reply to Dean's letter. She was polite, saying things like, _Thank you_ … _that means a lot_, and _Hope you're doing well_.

She knew, back when she had sent the reply, that she was sort of letting Dean back into her life. But what could she do? She couldn't _not _write him back.

After they had broken up at Hogwarts, they hadn't spoken. Well … _he_ hadn't spoken to _her_, and since she had been the one to end things, she sort of had to respect his wishes and, in turn, not speak to him.

She opened the letter and read it through once, then twice, unable to keep the frown off her face when she read _Give my best to Hermione and Harry_. The word "Harry" was in darker ink, as if Dean had pressed his quill harder into the parchment while writing it.

She did not like the way he said that he missed her, nor did she like the way he signed his letter _Love, Dean_.

It wasn't as if Dean _really _loved her, though. Or … did he? They had dated for nearly a year, after all. They'd never said the words, of course, and although she had liked Dean quite a bit, she certainly hadn't _loved _him …

Oh, Merlin. What if Dean still had feelings for her?

She told herself she was being silly. If the situations had been reversed, Ginny would have sent Dean a letter of condolences. And she might have even signed it _Love, Ginny_.

She was overreacting. And even if she wasn't, it didn't really matter.

'Are you okay?' asked Hermione.

Ginny shrugged. 'It's from Dean,' she said.

Hermione just looked at her. 'So?'

'So,' said Ginny. 'He's writing me. We're writing each other, apparently,' she corrected herself, her finger pointing to the spot on the page where Dean wrote _Hope to hear from you again soon_.

'Would it be so horrible to keep in contact with him?' inquired Hermione. 'It's not as if we'll be seeing our old friends at Hogwarts this year. It would be good for us all to keep in touch, if you ask me.'

Ginny sighed. 'I know. I write Luna and Neville a lot,' she said. 'But Dean is different. I … I don't want him to become some sort of … Viktor Krum.'

Hermione smiled. 'Harry is _not _going to get jealous if you get a letter or two from Dean.'

'You never know.'

'He isn't like that,' said Hermione reasonably.

'He's different when it's just the two of us,' said Ginny. 'I mean, he –'

Mrs Weasley cleared her throat.

Ginny felt her cheeks flush and she looked down at the letter again.

Her mum was still a bit upset with Ginny and Harry. On the first morning of Harry's training, she had gone to wake him up and found him in Ginny's bed. While Harry had been off training that day, Ginny and her mum had "The Talk" (something that they'd had once before, when Ginny was fourteen, but this more recent one had been far more detailed) and Ginny had promised her mum that she and Harry would sleep in separate rooms from then on. Hermione was still staying in Ron's old bedroom, so Harry was set up in Bill's old room.

Mrs Weasley hadn't known – not until two mornings ago, when she had found Harry in Ginny's bed, yet again – that Harry waited until everyone was asleep before Apparating down to Ginny's room each night.

Ginny promised her mum that it would not happen again. Of course, she was referring to the fact that they would not be _caught _again. But her mum didn't know that, and Ginny didn't feel the need to bring it to her attention.

She didn't care. It wasn't as if she could sleep without Harry, anyway. It was almost as if he had the ability to chase away her nightmares.

And that was a good thing, because Ginny hadn't had nightmares since the summer after her first year at Hogwarts, and the feelings of helplessness that accompanied them were not something she cared to repeat night after night.

'Harry!'

Ginny looked up.

'You're home,' Mrs Weasley said.

'I – yeah,' said Harry. 'Tonks let me come home early. She said … hmm. Well, she said _something_. And here I am.'

He sighed and dropped down in the seat next to Ginny. She smiled in greeting but frowned when she really _looked _at him.

'Are you all right?' she asked.

'Huh?' he asked. 'Oh. Yeah. I'm good.'

She and Hermione exchanged worried looks. 'Harry,' said Hermione. 'You don't look good.'

'Thanks,' Harry said lightly, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes.

Mrs Weasley rushed over to him and put her hand on his forehead. 'Why don't you go upstairs and rest? You're exhausted.'

Harry shook his head. 'No, I'm not,' he said.

'You're falling asleep in your chair,' said Ginny.

'I'm just resting my eyes,' said Harry.

'That's it,' said Mrs Weasley. 'I'm going to have a word with Minerva first thing in the morning! This is ridiculous.'

'No,' said Harry. 'It's … please, Mrs Weasley. I appreciate it, but … I'm fine. I'm just a little tired. Tonks had me running laps around the Quidditch pitch.'

'How many?'

He shrugged. 'I lost count.'

Hermione made a noise between a horrified gasp and an outraged cry. 'They can't do this!' she cried. '_Why _are they doing this? To see how much you can take before you _crack_?'

Before she could go off into a rant, though, Harry sat up straight and reached out his hand. Ginny watched, awestruck, as the letter grasped tightly in her hand flew to Harry and he caught it.

'That's why they're doing this,' Harry said. 'So I can learn how to control all these … _things _…that I can do. And I'm damn lucky that they're even bothering to invest their time in me.' He looked down at the letter. 'What's this?'

Mrs Weasley began clearing the dishes and Hermione stood up to help. Ginny did not miss the look that passed between the two of them, nor did she miss the way Hermione began washing the dishes the Muggle way, making an effort to make quite a bit of noise in the process.

……………………………………………………………

Mrs Weasley had been right: Harry _was _exhausted. But what was he supposed to do? Tell Tonks, _Thank you, but no, I don't think I'm too keen on training today_?

He couldn't do that. He _wouldn't _do that.

He was annoyed by the way nobody at The Burrow seemed to understand that he had to train or else he probably wouldn't even survive to the final showdown with Voldemort.

And he was also annoyed by the way Ginny was avoiding his question.

'What's what?' asked Ginny.

'This,' Harry said, holding up the letter in his hand.

'Oh,' she said. 'That.'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'What is it?'

'It's a letter,' she said.

Obviously.

'Who's it from, through?' he asked, hoping she would say Luna or Neville or another one of their friends. He had been meaning to write them for weeks, but hadn't gotten around to it. He knew that Ginny kept up correspondence with many of their friends, and if he actually thought about it, he was rather curious as to how they were doing. Sometimes, he forgot that there was a world outside of The Burrow, Headquarters and the Great Hall of Hogwarts. 'Luna?'

'No,' said Ginny. 'This one's from, um, Dean, actually.'

'Oh,' Harry said, but his voice sounded a little too controlled, even to his ears.

He didn't want Dean writing to Ginny. It wasn't that he didn't trust Ginny – hell, it wasn't even that he thought Dean would try to make a move on her – but, for some reason, a part of him just wasn't comfortable with the idea. A bloke had noright sending letters to an ex-girlfriend if she was in another relationship. That was reasonable. He wasn't being overbearing or jealous. Right?

'He wanted to tell us that he was sorry about Ron,' said Ginny, giving him a measured glance. 'And he told me to say hello to you.'

Harry didn't quite believe this. But, really, did it matter what Dean had put in his letter? _Harry _was the one Ginny loved. Not Dean.

He told himself not to say anything stupid. He didn't want to fight with Ginny – not about something stupid, like letters from _Dean_ – and he certainly didn't want to sound as foolish as Ron had whenever Hermione spoke about her letters from Viktor Krum.

'Make sure you tell him I say hello back,' Harry said, pretending he gave a rat's arse about anything they were currently discussing.

'Okay,' said Ginny, and Harry knew that she wasn't really going to include it in her next letter, but he didn't really care. She smiled at him. 'He's being very nice,' she said. 'And I don't really want to write him, but I can't be rude and not reply to his letters.'

Harry felt like a git then, because Dean wasn't writing poetry and romantic verses to Ginny, professing his undying love for her. He was writing to say he was sorry that Ron was dead. And even if he _did _have ulterior motives …so what? It wasn't as if Ginny was going to ditch him and run off with Dean.

And – if in some strange, alternate universe – it _did _happen … well, Harry wasn't practicing physical and armed combat for nothing.

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'I know.' He yawned. It was barely dark out, but he was too tired to keep his eyes open any longer. 'I'm going up to bed.'

He kissed her goodnight and went up to bed, where he had a fitful sleep, dreaming of Quidditch and Dean and a strange man with black hair who lived across the ocean, all the while, Hermione's voice echoing in his head, saying: _Look closer_ …

……………………………………………………………

The man was sleeping. It was a nice, deep sleep. Most importantly, it was absolutely _dreamless_. Thank Merlin for that. All week he had been having nightmares.

Well, they weren't really nightmares. He wished they could be nightmares. But they weren't frightening. They didn't cause him to wake up in a cold sweat or reach out for someone to calm his nerves.

No, if anything, these dreams were pleasant. That was the most unsettling thing. Each night, he awoke to a foggy mind but a clear mental picture of a pretty girl with brown hair and chocolate eyes.

Who was this girl? She —

'_I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?' she says, looking down at him with a snooty smile._

_He feels like an idiot, because he hadn't meant for her to see him attempt to turn his rat yellow. He shouldn't have trusted George. He should have _known _that spell wouldn't work. He just made an arse of himself in front of Harry Potter and this stupid, obnoxious, annoying girl._

_Of course, she isn't stupid, if she can learn ALL those books off by heart, AND get spells to work for her. She just might be brilliant. She sure seems like the bookworm type, at any rate._

_This is just the sort of thing that would happen to him, too. It is just his luck that on his first day of Hogwarts, he ends up seated between The Boy Who Lived and this girl, Hermione, who is looking at him as though she thinks he is a freak, and, well, she wouldn't be completely incorrect with that assumption, would she? _

_What's next? Will he be sorted into Slytherin, or something dreadful like that? As if this day isn't kicking his arse already._

_Maybe things will be okay, though. Once Hermione gets out of their compartment, he and Harry can go back to eating their Every Flavour Beans and talking about stupid, unimportant things._

_He wants her to leave, but she does not seem to be going anywhere, and it confuses him. It doesn't bother him, but it does confuse him. Hermione Granger is going to throw him for a loop, he can tell._

_What kind of a name is Hermione, anyway? It's not like anything he has ever heard before. It's awfully strange. Even his sister, Ginevra, has a better name than that._

_He hates the look that crosses her face when Harry introduces himself. He wonders if it is the same look that was on his just moments ago, when he first stumbled into the compartment and sat down._

_He hadn't expected Harry Potter to be so _… _completely unaware of himself, or of the magical world, the one he saved years and years ago, before he could walk or talk or read or write or even do much of anything._

_Honestly, when his older brothers had speculated, on the way to King's Cross, that Harry Potter would probably be on the train, he hadn't cared all that much. He was expecting Harry to be self-involved and cocky, probably a master at all sorts of spells, ones his brother Percy, in fifth year, hadn't even learned yet. _

_Instead, Harry is nice and funny and just a bit awkward, what with the fact that he says You-Know-Who's name as easily as he says his own – neither of which, really, should be uttered with such a loose tongue._

_As the girl goes on and on about all the books Harry is in, he wonders how one person could possibly retain such information. The facts just roll off her tongue with ease, and he wonders if she spent her entire summer holed up inside her bedroom, studying things that they wouldn't need to know for ages. He feels a bit inadequate, because he hasn't even bothered opening his schoolbooks yet. Judging by the look on Harry's face, though, he isn't the only one who will be unprepared._

_This girl is bossy and self-assured, and she holds her chin just a little too high for his liking. And when she tells them to get into their robes because they'll be at Hogwarts shortly, he is reminded of Percy._

_Finally, she leaves, and although it is what he wanted, there is a voice in the back of his mind whispering that he should have moved over a bit, that he should have made room for her to sit down with him and Harry._

'_Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it,' he says, and maybe it's the truth, or maybe it's a dirty lie. _—

The man whimpered, but did not wake. In the morning, he would do as he always did: examine his dreams, hoping to rouse his subconscious, until he finally conceded to the fact that he could remember nothing and no one.

This was terrible and frustrating and made him want to scream. In his dreams, he knew who she was. He knew who_ he _was. But then, he would wake up, and all he had to remind him of his dream were the uncomfortable feelings in the pit of his stomach and the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

He hated this; he hated how he was so bloody torn. He wanted these dreams to end; he wanted them to keep going. He wanted to get to the bottom of them; he wanted to forget all about them.

On the plus side, though, he'd stopped having flashes during the day. He had finally broken down and told Joe about them, and his friend gave him a small potion, saying it would help put a lid on whatever was bothering him. He had taken the potion hesitantly at first, unsure of whether or not it would work – unsure of whether or not he wanted it to work.

Sweet relief came, eventually, when he realized that he was no longer bombarded with images of people he had never met. He now took the potion every morning and —

_Hermione is twelve, lying in the Hospital Wing. He hates himself for not being able to wake her up. He hates himself because everything seems to be turning to shite lately, and he can do nothing to stop it. He hates himself because it should have been _him_, not _her

_He does not want to think about the very real fact that he could lose her. Sure, she may wake up from her current state, but she is still a Muggle, and it is still dangerous for her to be around while this whole Chamber of Secrets business is going on. _

_She probably won't speak to him for days after she wakes up, anyway. She'll know, just as he knows, that he should have protected her better, that it is his fault she is Petrified. He won't blame her for hating him._

_And even if she doesn't hate him forever – although he isn't getting his hopes up – he might not see her again. Unless this situation is resolved, Hogwarts will have to close. Harry will come to The Burrow for the summer _…_ but what will _she _do? She'll go back to her house and probably forget all about him. An owl might come with word from her every few weeks, but it will probably be letters for Harry._

_Sometimes, he thinks that Hermione likes Harry more than him. She must. She doesn't argue with Harry. Harry never gets on her nerves. Harry hadn't laughed at her tail._

_Other times, though, he thinks that she enjoys their arguing just as much as he does. Sure, Hermione can drive him up the wall, but it wouldn't feel the same if she didn't nag him to do his homework or yell at him for having his uniform shirt untucked._

_He has done his homework every single night since Hermione was hurt. And he's tried really hard not to curse or talk with his mouth full or be late for class._

_And when that doesn't help, he goes to visit her in the Hospital Wing. He wants to yell at her, to scream that she has to get up because he and Harry need her too much, but, instead, he sits there with Harry and stares at her, trying to figure out _why _this had to happen and what he can do about it._

_It's up to him, after all. Harry has other things on his mind. He's accused of being the heir of Slytherin. But how can he be the heir? He's in Gryffindor! Harry is his best mate, and if Harry swears that he didn't know he could speak Parseltongue, that he really isn't involved in this at all, then that is the truth. Besides, Harry would never hurt Hermione like that. Why can't the other kids realize that? Justin Finch-Fletchley, the great sod _… _this is his fault. If he hadn't accused Harry of setting that snake on him _…

_And then, on top of all this, there's his sister. Ginny has been acting a little weird lately. Well, not really. She was acting this way during the summer, sort of. And she's always been a little strange, really. Maybe she's just acting odd because of Harry. She's got a huge crush on Harry, after all. He feels bad for Ginny because he knows that Harry will never see her as anything more than the youngest Weasley, his best mate's baby sister. But maybe it's for the best, because Harry tends to attract trouble wherever he goes, and Ginny doesn't need to be mixed up in that sort of thing._

_Everything is such a mess. He wonders how much longer this will continue for. He doesn't think he'll be able to take it if things don't get better soon. But things will. They have_ _to. Harry will figure something out. He always does. Right? —_

……………………………………………………………

**Alas, my exams are over! French, Religion, Science, Math, History and English – six exams in five days makes my head spin.**

**Okay, this means I can dedicate myself to writing this again. I can't express how frustrated I was, knowing that I hadn't updated in weeks but not being able to sit down and write. This story has been all over the place lately, and the updates have been few and far between, and I'm terribly sorry, but I want to thank everyone who hasn't given up on me! I haven't forgotten about this, and I have every intention of finishing it. I've just been too busy studying to do much about anything concerning this story. There's still a ton in store for you all. To that end, check out my profile page, because I've got a ton of H/G one-shots up that I'd love for you all to read.**


	27. The Truth

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter! **

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Truth  
**……………………………………………………………

'_One,' Harry says as they walk._

'_What?'_

'_There's only going to be one peg,' Harry says. 'Don't you see? Voldemort isn't an idiot. He knows that the more people there are at the end, the better the chance that they'll get the Horcrux.'_

_He feels like an idiot, because he hadn't_ _thought of that. It makes perfect sense, of course. But _… _does that mean Harry has to go on by himself? In this DEATH TRAP?_

_Oh, Merlin. _

_He doesn't really know what to say to Harry then. "Good luck" doesn't seem appropriate. "Don't die" doesn't feel right, either._

'_D'you think Hermione's okay?' he asks._

'_Of course she is,' Harry says, and doesn't sound sure. 'I mean _... _she was okay enough to argue with us about going back, wasn't she?'_

'_Yeah,' he says. 'Yeah, she was. Still _…_'_

_He doesn't finish his sentence, because he feels Harry's hand on him, telling him to stop._

'_This is it,' Harry says._

_Sure enough, a single plank appears, taunting them with everything it symbolizes._

_He curses and looks at Harry, and even though he knows that this has to happen, that it has to be Harry who goes on (not just because he is the "Chosen One", but also because he has a better chance of actually getting the Horcrux and making it back alive), Ron doesn't want him to. He'd much rather go along, because, as much as he hates the idea that they have to go through this trouble of finding these Horcruxes, he hates the idea that Harry, ultimately, has to do it alone even more. It's just not fair that one person should be burdened with so much._

'_Wish me luck, I guess,' Harry says, and then makes to move forward._

_He can't stop himself; before he even realizes what he is doing, he is reaching out and hugging Harry, something that he can't remember ever doing before._

_Harry hesitates for a moment before awkwardly putting an arm around him, and they embrace like brothers, because that's what they are, what they have always been._

_And it feels as if he is seeing everything for the first time, here, in this dark, smelly old tunnel. Harry has always been just Harry in his eyes. But there is no such thing as "just" Harry. This boy, the one he split a bag of Every Flavoured Beans with on their first train ride to Hogwarts and who was Captain of the Quidditch team and who dated his baby sister _… _this boy is going to save the world._

_He knows this, of course. He has always _known _this. But he hadn't _realized _it until just now. _

_This is sort of like the first time he looked up and saw Hermione as something other than his sometimes-annoying, too-smart-for-her-own-good best friend._

_He lets go of Harry, feeling like an even bigger idiot now, because he's probably just given Harry the impression that he doesn't think Harry will make it back._

_And maybe he won't._

'_Good luck,' he says, and then watches as Harry crosses the plank._

……………………………………………………………

The man who spent his days wearing someone else's face crept out of his room, clutching his wand tightly, and went outside. He looked around; making sure his houseguest hadn't stirred and followed him outside to see what was going on. Upon seeing that he had managed to slip away undetected, he Disapparated with a _Crack!_

'I've been waiting,' said a voice. A man stepped out of the shadows.

'I know, Lucius. But I had to be sure that Weasley was asleep before I left. Wouldn't want him to get suspicious, would we?' He sighed and looked around. 'Is it safe?'

'Of course it is,' said Lucius. 'Now, give me your progress report.'

……………………………………………………………

'_This is ridiculous,' he declares._

'_Yeah, well _…_ We can always take matters into our own hands,' Fred says in a low voice_.

'_What d'you mean?' he asks._

_His brothers exchange glances and George beams. 'We can take the Muggle car. We can fly to Harry and rescue him ourselves.'_

'_You think?'_

'_Harry can be here by morning,' says Fred._

'_HARRY'S COMING?'_

'_Keep your voice down, Ginny!' Fred hisses._

'_You said Harry was going to be here in the morning!' she squeals._

'_He's not coming here at all, because you're obsessed with him and he hates you,' George tells her._

_Ginny's mouth falls open in shock, and then, before the tears come, Fred says, 'Go to bed!'_

_His sister is gone now, and Fred and George are looking at him with identical glints of mischief in their eyes._

'_We're going to be in a load of trouble when we get back,' he says, as if this is a reason not to go. But it's Harry, and Harry would do the same thing for him._

'_Yeah,' Fred says with a smile._

'_Let's go,' says George._

……………………………………………………………

'It isn't working, you say?'

'No, Lucius. I don't think it is.'

'Well, that just won't do,' said Lucius.

'I know. But I've tried everything. There's nothing we can do to keep him from remembering.'

Lucius smirked. 'There is _one _thing,' he said.

'Yes, but … I thought that was our last resort. The Dark Lord said –'

'I am aware of what the Dark Lord said. However, if Weasley is getting his memories back as rapidly as you say he is, I see no other option. How can we use his strength to our advantage if he starts to regain his identity halfway through our "training program"? We must do it.'

'Fine. I'll do it as soon as I get back to the house. Weasley's staying with me – I mean, _Joe_ – after all. It's the perfect opportunity.'

'Excellent,' said Lucius. 'You should go now. The sooner we get rid of this problem, the better. Am I right, Amycus?'

Amycus Carrow grinned and took a swig of the potion he carried with him. He braced himself for the feeling he had become somewhat used to over the passing weeks. He no longer cringed at the potion's taste, and he no longer doubled over as the first wave of burning hit him. When the transformation was complete, his nose had shrunk and his eyes had become slightly more spaced apart, changing to a light green. His hair had grown longer, thicker and curlier than before, turning a very light shade of blonde. His jaw had squared slightly; his cheeks now appeared less hollow, his eyes less sunken in.

He cleared his throat.

'You're very right,' said Amycus. His accent was nearly gone now, and his voice was different, not as deep and certainly not as aggressive. 'I must be off.'

Lucius nodded curtly.

With that, Joe Disapparated away from the place Amycus Carrow had Apparated to mere moments before.

……………………………………………………………

'_We won!' he yells as Harry enters the common room. 'Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!' He waves the cup around, feeling proud because he actually contributed to this victory, because this is one thing that Harry hasn't held his hand through. _

_But Harry isn't looking at him. It's not really clear who he's looking at, really. It looks like it might be _… _no, Harry isn't allowed to_ _look at Ginny with _that _expression _…

_The next few seconds happen in slow-motion, it feels. He isn't sure what is going on. Harry is kissing his sister, right out in the open, for all of Gryffindor to see. He is so bloody confused. Who would want to kiss Ginny? Well, other than Dean _…_ and Michael _…_ and _…_ okay, so maybe he's noticed that his baby sister has attracted some attention. But since when is _Harry _interested in her? And why hasn't Harry ever said anything before? They're supposed to be best mates._

_He looks around the room and sees that everyone is watching them. Dean looks about ready to wring Harry's neck and Hermione is grinning from ear to ear, as if she has been expecting this all along. Why does nobody ever bother to clue him in on these things? Lavender is looking wistful, as if she misses snogging him like that. She looks up and catches his eye, so he looks back at Harry and Ginny, to avoid having to get into a discussion with her. He doesn't want to get back together with her. He doesn't even know why he bothered with her in the first place._

_Harry finally pulls away from Ginny and looks up. He doesn't know what he will do when their eyes meet. He isn't upset. He's sort of relieved, in a way. Harry is decent. Well, Dean is decent, too. But Harry would be better for Ginny because … because he's Harry. It isn't a good logic but it makes sense to him, so when Harry catches his eye, he half-nods his approval. When they leave – he doesn't think he wants to know where they're going and what they're going to do when they get there – he sits with Hermione and listens to her babble on and on about how she's caught Harry staring at Ginny twice this week and that she just _knew _this would happen eventually._

'_Hermione,' he says, and she stops her rant to look up. 'Quit talking about Harry and tell me about how spectacular my saves were.'_

_He is only half-kidding and Hermione must know that, just like she knows everything else there ever is to know about him, because she smiles warmly and says, 'You were spectacular, Ron.' —_

Ron awoke and sat up in his bed, then abruptly fell onto his back again, as images of another life hit him like a wall: An awkward-looking house just outside of Ottery St Catchpole; a small girl with red hair, crying because her brothers teased her; flying in a car with twin redheads; a castle with trick stairs and ghosts and talking portraits.

A boy with messy hair and glasses, one who had more courage than Godric Gryffindor himself and who spent almost as much time in the Hospital Wing as Madam Promfrey.

And a girl.

A girl who smiled at him almost as much as she shouted, who lectured him until he thought he'd go mad. A girl who never got anything less than "Outstanding" on every essay she ever turned in. A girl he loved more than anything else in the entire bloody world.

He heard a creak and his eyes flew to his door just in time to see the knob turn.

'Joe?' Ron rasped, forcing himself to sit up. 'Thank Merlin you're here. I … what're you doing?'

Joe smiled eerily and lowered his wand. 'I thought I heard you cry out. I came to see if everything was okay. _Is _everything okay?'

Ron wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him everything about the dreams, about Hermione and Harry and Ginny.

But he was hesitant. He didn't know if he could trust Joe. And it was terrible, really, because Joe hadn't ever been anything but _overly _friendly to him. He'd showed Ron around town and helped him come up with a background story for when people asked where he'd come from. Hell, he'd let Ron _live _with him.

Still, he couldn't deny the fact that something about Joe didn't sit well with him, had never really sat well with him.

'Ron?'

'Huh?' Ron asked, snapping out of his thoughts. 'Sorry, what?'

'I asked if you were okay. Honestly, you're acting all spotty. What's going on?'

Ron shrugged. 'Nothing,' he said, deciding that it would be easier if he didn't tell Joe anything. If he told his story, he would have to spend quite a bit of time explaining everything. He wouldn't be able to make a move until morning, maybe even later than that. If he didn't, he could leave a note saying goodbye and slip away. He would get back home faster that way.

'You're sure?'

'Yeah,' he said.

They stared at each other for several long moments until Joe nodded, said goodnight, and left.

And although Joe had said he was going to bed, Ron didn't hear the sound of retreating footsteps down the hall. He grabbed his wand off the nightstand and climbed out of bed, and before he'd even realized what he was doing, he was arranging his pillows to make it look as though he was still under the covers, and then creeping across the room and standing in the corner, hidden by the shadows.

He wasn't sure what he expected, but when Joe opened his door and crept back in a little more than half an hour later, a part of him wasn't surprised. He held his breath and watched as Joe pointed his wand in the direction of his bed and whispered '_Avada _–'

'_Expelliarmus_!' he cried. Joe's wand flew onto the bed and Joe spun around, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in shock.

Did that really just happen?

It must have. The only other option was that Ron was going crazy … and he didn't like that idea one bit.

Joe had tried to kill him. Why?

Joe dove to the bed and grabbed his wand before Ron could react.

'Who – who are you?' asked Ron. Joe said nothing. 'You called me Ron. How did you know –?'

'Can't you guess?' questioned Joe. 'I'm the reason you're here.'

Ron's head was spinning. 'You – your name isn't Joe, is it?'

'You've finally figured it out, have you?'

'Who are you?' Ron demanded.

'Does it matter?'

'Yes,' Ron growled, gripping his wand. This was the man who'd taken him away from his family. All this time, he'd pretended to be Ron's _friend_. 'I want to know who I'm about to murder.'

The other man laughed. 'You think you'll murder me? I could kill you without even batting an eye.'

'Probably,' said Ron, thinking logically for possibly the first time in his life. 'But you've had more than a few opportunities before now. You must have been keeping me around for something.'

'I was, yes. But you are no longer needed.'

'But I _was _needed before,' he urged. 'I want to know why. And I want to know what's changed.'

'The war is over,' said the other man. 'The Dark Lord has emerged victorious. You are of no use to him anymore.'

The Dark Lord? It made sense, of course. Who else but You-Know-Who would go throw all the trouble of sending Ron halfway across the world, when he could've just killed him and been done with it?

But You-Know-Who hadn't won. He couldn't have won. This man was lying. He was messing with Ron's head … and it was working.

'He won, huh?' Ron said, stalling as he tried to come up with a plan, a way out. 'I don't believe that for a minute.'

'It doesn't matter what you believe. You'll be dead soon, anyway. The Dark Lord has given the order, and I will follow through with it.'

'What, he's not going to do it himself?' Ron asked, feeling the panic rising inside of him. 'Oh, I suppose he's too busy off somewhere killing all the Muggles and good, honest wizards. Tell me, though. Once he's killed everyone who isn't good enough, do you think he'll be satisfied? No. He'll start picking off his followers.'

'Then I will die with honour, because I have served my Lord.'

'I don't think you'll be so honourable when you're staring down the end of Voldemort's wand,' Ron taunted.

'_Do not say his name_!'

'Why not? He's only a person, after all … nothing special about him whatsoever,' Ron said, realizing for the first time why Harry and Hermione and Ginny always said his name. 'Did you know that he's a half-blood? His father was a Muggle. Makes him a right foul hypocrite, wouldn't you say?'

'SHUT YOUR MOUTH!'

'Why? What're you going to do?' asked Ron. 'Take me away from my friends and family? Hold me hostage? Try to kill me? You've done you're worst already. And you've failed.'

'Come here.'

'What will Voldemort think when he finds out that his servant was bested by a Weasley? I bet that'll really stick in his side. You're lucky you won't be around to witness it firsthand.'

'_Come here_.'

'Why?'

'Because we are going to duel,' said the other man … the _Death_ _Eater_. 'I assume you understand what that entails. I certainly hope you are better than your pathetic father was, at any rate.'

Ron tensed. 'What did you say? What about my dad?'

The Death Eater laughed sharply. 'Oh, don't worry. Your father is with your dear old mum now.'

'My mum?' Ron repeated, and he could hear the fear in his own voice. 'What happened to my parents? What did you do to them?'

He was met with a sneer.

'Tell me!' Ron demanded. 'Tell me right now.'

'I would like to tell you that they went peacefully but … well, I wouldn't want to lie to you. Their deaths were rather messy.'

Ron was choking on his own panic. His parents? This was a lie. They couldn't be dead!

'Your mother didn't even have to die,' the Death Eater continued. 'She was trying to save that brat … the other bitch with red hair.'

'Ginny is _not_ a bitch!'

'Ah, yes, Ginny,' he said. 'That was her name. I vaguely recall Potter screaming it. But does it matter? She's not really anything now,' he gloated. 'I was aiming for the Mudblood, see. But I hit the littlest Weasel instead. Don't worry, though. Severus took care of the Mudblood. Got the wolf, too, he did.'

Ron's knees suddenly felt weak. Oh, no. Oh, Merlin. This wasn't happening. This was a bad dream. This was … no. He was going to wake up and it was going to be the morning of Bill's wedding, and he would have time to save everyone.

'You're a liar,' he said, because it couldn't be true. His parents and Ginny couldn't be dead. _Hermione_ couldn't be dead.

'Don't call me a liar.'

'Then don't _lie_!'

'Shall we settle this with a duel?' the Death Eater challenged. 'Unless you don't think you can keep up.'

'Is that how Voldemort does it, then? Makes his Death Eaters do all of his bidding?' asked Ron. 'Well, I wouldn't expect anything else from him.'

'The Dark Lord is the greatest wizard in the world and –'

'_HARRY_ _POTTER_ IS THE GREATEST WIZARD IN THE WORLD!'

'Harry Potter was a silly boy who thought he could beat the Dark Lord at his own game,' the Death Eater said calmly, pointing his wand square at Ron's face. 'He failed miserably, of course. Nobody goes up against the Dark Lord and lives to tell about it for long.'

'Harry couldn't have failed,' Ron said. 'I would know. It would be all over the papers.'

'It only just happened,' he said, unfazed. 'I expect the Ministry in London doesn't even know it yet. Oh, I would love to be there when they discover that their beloved Harry Potter is dead.'

'Harry Potter isn't dead.'

'Oh, but he is. I had the pleasure of witnessing it myself. He took an awful long time to go, but he _is _dead, nonetheless. Now,' he said brightly. 'We duel.'

Ron didn't know what to believe. The only thing he knew was that he definitely wasn't getting out alive unless he fought.

If Hermione and Harry and his family were gone, though … did he really _want _to live? Then again, this man could be lying to him. And as long as there was the hope that his loved ones were all still alive and well, Ron would fight.

'Fine,' he said. 'But we're skipping the pleasantries.'

'Oh, but I do so enjoy those,' the man said dryly. '_Taran_—'

'_Protego_!' Ron said instantly. '_A-Avada _–'

'_Crucio_!'

Ron was not aware that he collapsed on the floor. He was not aware that he was screaming at the top of his lungs. All he knew was that this pain was a million times worse than anything he had ever imagined or experienced before. Harry wasn't kidding when he said it would make someone pray for death. Had Ginny felt this? Oh, he hoped not …

The curse was lifted, thankfully, almost as quickly as he was subjected to it.

'You know, Weasley,' said the man, 'I had always pegged you as someone who followed the rules of fair play. Let me make something clear: you do not _attempt _Unforgivables, and I will not _perform _Unforgivables. Not until I've have my fun, at least. Do we understand each other?'

Ron grunted and got up off the floor. 'No deal. Give me your worst.'

He took off into a run. He was being chased by an angry Death Eater who wanted nothing more than to throw the Killing Curse at him and be done with it. The scariest thing, by far, had to be the fact that Ron was nearly positive he could kill almost as easily as the man in the next room.

'_Stupefy_!'

'_Protego_!' Ron yelled, spinning around just in time to see the Death Eater come into the room after him. '_Reducto_!'

The Death Eater ducked and the curse soared past him, knocking out a large portion of the wall.

Ron lived with Ginny and his mum long enough to know when to run, and so he ran out of the room and hid around the corner, throwing a Trip Jinx at the Death Eater as he rushed by.

'Enough playing around,' he snarled. He threw out a curse that Ron had never heard before. Ron jumped out of the way and watched as the couch behind him was sliced in half.

'_Expelliarmus_!'

The Death Eater's wand flew out of his hand and they both lunged for it. But the Death Eater was quicker, and he grabbed the wand before Ron could reach it.

'_Incendio_!'

The curtains behind Ron caught on fire and Ron had half a mind to put them out, but then there was another spell fired at him, and all he could think to do was protect himself.

He couldn't seem to think of a spell, though, and briefly wondered why he had to pick _now_, of all moments, to forget everything he'd learned in the DA.

He did the only thing that seemed logical – he threw out his fist and let it connect with the other man's face.

Soon, they were both punching and kicking, rolling around on the floor. Ron couldn't figure out why anyone would ever duel with wands, because it was _so_ much more satisfying to simply beat your fists against your enemy.

After the other man got in a few good shots, Ron was starting to think that maybe wands were safer, after all. He got up, too focused on getting away to notice how he wobbled on his feet, and clutched his wand tightly.

In school, whenever Malfoy had challenged him, Ron hated backing down. In any situation, really, he hated giving in, accepting defeat. But now, against someone who was far more experienced and who wouldn't hesitate to cause him unimaginable pain, all he could do was wait for a chance to hightail it out of there.

And he had always secretly yearned for a chance to prove himself, for something he could do without Harry, but this was _not _the time to have pride, and even someone as stubborn as him could see that.

He cast a Bat-Bogey Hex, hoping for the chance to run away while his opponent was distracted. But Ginny had always been the expert on that, not him. The jinx was weak and barely anything happened.

'_Furnunculus_!'

'_Impedimenta_!'

'_Protego_!'

'_Crucio_!'

Ron didn't remember running down the corridor and into the kitchen, but he was glad he did. He dove behind the table and it was blown apart by the curse.

He jumped up from behind the remains of a chair and saw that his opponent's hair had become a different colour. The Polyjuice Potion he took must have been wearing off. The man doubled over and Ron saw his opportunity.

'_Locomotor Mortis_!'

The Death Eater never saw it coming. His legs locked and he collapsed, his mouth an 'O' of shock. He started to shout something – probably the Killing Curse – but Ron, for once, was faster.

'_Stupefy_!'

The Death Eater's eyes fluttered shut and Ron finally felt his knees go weak. He dropped to the floor and pulled himself over to the Death Eater, grabbing his wand. He snapped it in half, the only thing he could think of that would protect him if, for some reason, his enemy was to wake before Ron was ready.

'_Incarcerous_,' Ron choked out. He waited a moment and made sure that the man could go nowhere before saying, '_Ennervate_.'

The Death Eater's eyes slowly popped open, and he struggled against the bindings, but he didn't move. Ron examined his face. He had seen him before – they had had brief encounters during the Battle at Hogwarts and, now that he thought about it, at the wedding, too – but Ron did not know this man's name.

'I've got you,' Ron panted. 'Now, you're going to answer my questions.'

'I –'

'_Silencio_. I don't want to hear it. You'll answer my questions _with the truth_, and I'll consider letting you live,' Ron said. 'First off, what use am I to Voldemort?'

He lifted the Silencing Charm.

'I … I don't know.'

'Yes, you do!' Ron yelled, and then punched him.

The Death Eater fought against the invisible ropes for a moment before stilling. 'I don't know anything,' he maintained.

'You're a liar,' Ron said.

Shite, this wasn't going to go anywhere. Ron needed to get this bloke to talk. He needed … Veritaserum.

He had lived with Joe – _no, it had never been Joe_, he told himself – long enough to know where certain potions were kept. Now that he thought about it, it was the same place his mum kept them.

His mum didn't have Veritaserum in her collection, of course, but she didn't have much of anything, other than minor first aid potions, to begin with.

He got up and rushed to the cupboard that the potions were stored in, and was shocked by how many of them looked as if they housed Dark contents. How had he not picked up on the hints before? What kind of person kept such things lying around the house?

After rummaging through them for a moment, he thanked Merlin that he'd paid a little bit of attention in at least a few Potions Classes, because he was able to recognize Veritaserum fairly easily.

He went back to where he'd left the Death Eater and was more than a little relieved to see that he hadn't escaped somehow. Ron knelt down and, after a struggle, poured a liberal amount of the potion into the man's mouth. The man wouldn't swallow, however, and Ron was forced to plug his nose – if the man wanted to breathe again, he'd have to swallow sometime.

The man put up a valiant effort, but, eventually, he swallowed.

'What is your name?' Ron asked, after giving it a moment to kick in. He tried to remember everything Harry had ever told him about the encounter with the fake Mad-Eye Moody after the Triwizard Tournament.

'I won't – I – no –'

'What is your name?'

'I … Amycus Carrow.'

'Who are you loyal to?'

'Th-the Dark Lord.'

'Did he tell you to kill me tonight?'

'Indirectly.'

'What does that mean?'

'I have been meeting with Lucius Malfoy once a week to update him on our progress.'

'So … Malfoy gave you the order?' asked Ron.

'Yes,' said Amycus.

'Why didn't you just kill me in the first place?'

'We – he wanted to use you,' Amycus said.

'Who is _he_?'

'The Dark Lord.'

'And _how _did he plan on using me?'

'The Imperius Cruse. I was instructed to erase your memory and then put you under the Imperius.'

'If you had succeeded, what would you have made me do?' Ron inquired.

'I was to train you to fight for our side,' gasped Amycus. 'We were going to use you to hurt Potter.'

'Hurt him how?'

'Attack him. Make him think you'd turned to our side,' said Amycus. 'Make him weak, both physically and mentally. The Dark Lord would do the rest.'

Ron paused for a moment. 'Is Harry Potter dead?'

'He is still alive.'

Ron sighed in relief. 'Is the war over?'

'No. It is _far _from over.'

'Why did Lucius Malfoy order you to kill me tonight?'

'I realized that you were remembering more and more, and that your mind was working against the Memory Modifying Charms we'd preformed. When I passed my concerns on to Lucius, he said that we couldn't take the chance. He told me to eliminate you.'

'A-are my parents dead?'

'No.'

'What about my sister? Ginny?'

'She is alive.'

'My brothers? They're alive?'

'All of them.'

'And Hermione?' asked Ron, knowing that the next answer he received would be the most important one.

'I don't know who that is.'

'I – the Mudblood,' he said, cringing. 'You said Snape killed her. Is that true?'

'No.'

'You lied, then?'

'Yes.'

Ron took a moment to collect himself.

'You said your name was Amycus?' he asked.

'Yes,' said the Death Eater.

'What did you do with the _real _Joe, Amycus?'

'Joe is dead,' said Amycus.

'Who killed him?'

'Keeping him alive grew to be too difficult. I killed him last week.'

'Did you like that?' asked Ron. 'Did you _enjoy _killing him?'

'Yes, actually, I did.'

'You sick _fuck_!' Ron cried.

He looked around, trying to come up with more questions to ask. He noticed that the fire had nearly reached the doorway to kitchen. He didn't have much time left. Deciding that it wasn't worth the risk, he stood up.

'That's about all I want to know,' Ron said.

Ron wondered how he should deal with this situation at hand. If he let Amycus go back to Voldemort, he'd be chained up and tortured to insanity before Ron got back to The Burrow.

But Ron hated this man. He hated him more than he'd ever hated anyone else in his entire life. And didn't someone as terrible as this _deserve _that sort of end?

Still, he couldn't let Amycus go.

Voldemort would punish him – probably extensively. But Voldemort might give him the chance to redeem himself. He might make Amycus do something huge to prove himself again … and Ron couldn't let him hurt anyone else. Ron knew who the target would be next time and he'd sooner die than have Hermione go through this.

That, really, was what it came down to. It was between Hermione and this stranger.

In his mind's eye, he could picture Hermione, lying in the Hospital Wing after the Department of Mysteries. He could hear Harry's voice echoing in his head, saying, _When Dolohov hit her with that curse _… _I thought she was dead, Ron_. _I really did_.

And although Dolohov had been the one to hurt Hermione that time, he wasn't the only one who'd _wanted _to. This bloke clearly didn't object to torturing Ron and killing Joe. What would he do to Hermione – the one with the Muggle parents, the one they probably considered a "weak, little girl" – if he had the chance?

He took one last look around and then Disapparated to the safe outdoors, away from the fire, knowing that Amycus had no way of escaping, and knowing that he'd be halfway home by the time anyone discovered that there had been a fire at Joe's house that night.

……………………………………………………………

**Ah, the moment we've all been waiting for.**


	28. The Homecoming

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Clearly.**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Homecoming  
**……………………………………………………………

'Harry.'

'Mm?'

'You have to get up.'

'No.'

'Yes.'

'But it's so _early_.'

'I know, love. But you have training.'

Harry groaned. 'No, I don't,' he said, pulling the covers over his face. 'It's Saturday.'

He heard Ginny sigh and he stuck his head out from under the blanket to look at her. She frowned and brushed the hair off his forehead.

'It is?' she asked. She laughed bitterly. 'I don't even know what day of the week it is anymore. How messed up is that?'

'Gin –'

'This isn't natural,' she said. 'I don't – I don't know how much longer I can take this.' She shifted and lay back down. 'I forget Hogwarts,' she said, looking at him with wide eyes.

'No, you don't,' he said. It wasn't _that _long ago, was it?

'I do,' she insisted. 'I mean … I remember what the castle looks like from the outside. But I forget the feeling I'd get in my stomach when the stairs would start to change with me on them. And I forget how pretty the grounds used to look when they were covered with snow. And how it felt to win the House Cup or the Quidditch Cup,' she said. 'I miss just sitting in front of the fireplace on a cold day with the rest of Gryffindor. Nearly Headless Nick … Professor Sprout … _Hagrid_ …'

Shite, this wasn't good. Harry wasn't good with girls when they … when they acted like girls. What could he say, really? He spent every Monday through Friday at Hogwarts, but he doubted that telling Ginny that would cheer her up at all.

'I … I know,' Harry said, and it was a lie, but it was one that he thought Ginny needed to hear. 'But we'll go back, y'know. Once this is over, we can all go back. It'll be better than ever. We won't have to read about Death Eater attacks in the _Daily Prophet _every morning. We won't have Potions with Snape. We'll win that Quidditch Cup again. And we can skip dinner to snog in empty classrooms.'

She smiled weakly and looked away. 'Yeah,' she said. 'We'll get to do that again. But Ron won't … I guess that's what's got me so upset. I'm already starting to forget Hogwarts. What if I forget him, too?'

'You won't,' he said automatically.

'How do you _know_?' she asked.

Why did she have to keep asking questions that he couldn't answer?

He looked at her helplessly and she sighed. 'Oh. Harry, I'm sorry,' she said. 'I just … had a bad sleep, I guess … forget I said anything, okay? I don't want to become one of those whiney girls who cry all the time or anything.'

He wanted to tell her that there was a difference between those girls and her, and that she shouldn't ever worry about how she acted around him, but then she leaned forward and kissed him, hard, and his mind went blank.

'My mum,' she said against his mouth when one of his hands, which had been resting on her stomach, began to push up her shirt.

'She won't be up for hours,' he said.

'Mm … okay,' she said, and her breathing quickened.

……………………………………………………………

Monday afternoon found Ginny and Hermione in the sitting room.

'It's chilly outside,' Ginny said, looking out the window. 'At least, it _looks _chilly.'

'Huh?' said Hermione. She looked up from her book.

'I said that it looks cold,' said Ginny. 'You know … outside.'

'Oh,' Hermione said, and then cast a glance out the window. 'Yes. Yes, it does start cooling off in September.'

Ginny didn't know what was more pathetic: the fact that she and Hermione couldn't even seem to carry out a conversation these days, or that she was surprised to realize that it was, in fact, September.

Previous Septembers had always consisted of going to school and getting back into the swing of things. This time around, however, Ginny was stuck inside of The Burrow with nobody to talk to other than Hermione and her mum, sometimes even her dad and Harry.

'It doesn't feel like it's really September,' said Ginny. 'Does it?' she added, because she was starting to wonder if maybe she was slowly going crazy and the rest of them remained unaffected.

'No,' Hermione said after a long, pregnant pause. 'It doesn't.'

Hermione's eyes fell back to the pages of her book, and Ginny, desperate to maintain some shred of communication with the girl who used to be so much like a sister to her, said, 'So.'

'So,' Hermione echoed, but didn't look up this time.

Ginny cast around for a topic. 'It's nearly your birthday, isn't it?'

Hermione looked up. 'You know what,' she said slowly. 'It _is _nearly my birthday.' She laughed softly. 'I suppose I forgot.'

A year ago, someone forgetting their own birthday would've been some sort of crime to Ginny. But, being that her own birthday had gone mostly unnoticed this year, she was rather unsurprised that Hermione's was on the verge of going down that same path.

'We should do something special,' said Ginny. 'Eighteen … isn't that the important one for Muggles?'

'Yeah,' said Hermione. 'Actually … last summer, Mum and Dad had talked about taking a family trip to Australia just before this term started up, to celebrate. But it never did. And with everything that happened … we sort of forgot all about it, I guess.'

'Well,' Ginny said lamely. 'Anything we do won't be as nice as Australia, but we can have some cake. And presents.'

Hermione smiled. 'That sounds lovely.'

'Because, you know,' Ginny continued, 'I just think – with Ron d-dying, and Harry never being here – that it would be nice if we could have one day where we all settled in and had some of Mum's chocolate cake and shared a few laughs.'

Hermione didn't seem to hear much of that sentence. She frowned and set her book down in her lap.

'I'm not insane, you know,' she said calmly. 'When I say that Ron is alive … it's not because I've gone round the bend. He really is. Trust me, Ginny. If he was dead, I would accept it. But he isn't. I can _feel _it. And I think you believe me – I think you might even feel it, too – but you don't want to admit it to yourself.'

A part of Ginny – a tiny, almost insignificant part, but a part nonetheless – believed that Ron was alive. Or maybe that part just desperately wanted him to be. Either way, Ginny was not comfortable with where this conversation was headed.

'Maybe,' Ginny said, 'you're right. Maybe my brother _is_ alive. But maybe he isn't. Maybe he's dead. Personally, I think I'd rather believe that he's dead.'

Hermione's eyes widened. 'Why would you say that?'

'Because,' said Ginny. 'If he's alive, that means that he's deliberately staying away from us. That means that he knows we think he's dead, that he knows we're all upset and hurting … and he isn't bothering to come home or even send us a letter, telling us that he's okay. My brother could be a real prat sometimes, but he wouldn't ever be that inconsiderate, and I think it's a disgrace to his memory for me to believe that he's out there and choosing not to be with us.'

Hermione's eyes flashed. 'I'm not trying to disgrace his memory,' she said firmly. 'Maybe there's an explanation. Maybe he's alive, but he's … captured. Maybe he's alive but he needs our help, and we aren't going to give it to him because nobody believes me when I say he isn't dead and we should be out there looking for him.'

'You think?' asked Ginny. 'You think that Ron is being tortured right now?'

Hermione drew in a breath. 'Yes. Maybe. I'm not sure. I think it's definitely a possibility. And it's the only possible explanation.'

'Then why,' said Ginny, 'can't you _feel _it?'

And when Hermione didn't have an answer, Ginny left the room.

……………………………………………………………

'Ready, Harry?' asked Kingsley.

Harry nodded and braced himself. 'Ready,' he said.

Kingsley raised his wand. '_Legilimens_!'

Harry was eight, being chased through the schoolyard by Dudley and his friends as the rest of the kids looked on and laughed … he was in Madam Malkin's, listening as Malfoy went on and on about Quidditch and Houses and other things he'd never heard of before … he was listening as Cho Chang told him she was going to the Yule Ball with Cedric Diggory … he was in Dumbledore's office, throwing things around the room, feeling as though he might burst from all the hate he felt … he was kissing Ginny in the common room while all of Gryffindor looked on …

Harry was on his knees in the Great Hall. Kingsley was staring down at him, his wand clutched tightly in his right hand.

'Good start,' he said, though Harry didn't feel encouraged in the least.

'Again,' Harry panted, not realizing he was out of breath until he struggled to speak.

'_Legilimens_!'

He heard his mother crying, pleading for her son's life, and then there was a flash of green light … Voldemort ordered Wormtail to kill the spare, and then Cedric Diggory was lifeless on the cold, hard ground … he was watching on, helpless, as Sirius fell through the veil and disappeared onto the other side for ever more … he tried to move but he was stuck fast, and Snape was raising his wand to Professor Dumbledore's worn figure, and there was another flash of green, and then his hero was tumbling off the Astronomy tower … the battles around him were fast and harsh, but Ron seemed to move in slow motion as he jumped in front of Ginny and disappeared …

Once again, Harry was on his knees. He sighed in frustration.

'This takes time,' Kingsley said softly, and Harry did not miss the disturbed tone in his voice upon seeing all those awful things from Harry's mind. 'We can take a break, if you'd like.'

'No,' Harry said. 'Let's keep going.'

'_Legilimens_!'

He and Ron were going off to Hogwarts for the first time, and a ten-year-old Ginny Weasley was running alongside the train … he was in the Chamber of Secrets, choking on panic as he noticed Ginny lying on the floor, looking so much younger than eleven … Ginny was fourteen, demanding that she follow him to the Department of Mysteries … she was fifteen and they were dancing at the wedding, and he was telling her he loved her and couldn't stand to put her in danger any longer … she was sixteen and underneath him, moaning him name …

Harry wasn't on his knees this time, but he was breathing so heavily that he thought his lungs might burst. His head was throbbing like no tomorrow.

When Harry looked up, Kingsley's mouth was a tight line and he instantly regretted not moving on when it had been suggested.

'Um,' said Kingsley, looking somewhat uncomfortable. 'If you could just give me a moment, Harry … wait here.'

Kingsley left the Great Hall and Harry cursed. He shouldn't have let Kingsley see that. Ginny would kill him if she knew.

He stood there, trying to come up with a way to undo the damage of what had just happened, when McGonagall came in, looking rather severe indeed.

'Good afternoon, Potter,' she said, and Harry cringed. In the passing weeks, McGonagall had taken to calling him by his first name. He didn't have to think too hard to come up with a reason why she would have suddenly switched back again.

'Good afternoon, Professor,' said Harry.

'I just spoke with Mr Shacklebolt, and he said some things that I found rather interesting,' she said dangerously. 'It seems that there is one more thing I will need to teach you.'

'Er … what's that?' he asked.

'The Contraceptive Charm,' she said. Harry blanched. Oh, he knew what that was for. He'd never _needed _it, of course, but that didn't mean he'd never heard of it before.

'The – you – um – I don't –'

'Understand that I am not giving you any sort of _permission_, here,' she said. 'Still, this is something you will need to know sooner or later, and I have a feeling that, in this case, it will be sooner.'

Harry had never been so mortified in his life. 'P-Professor, I –'

'I assume I do not need to outline the reasons why one should use the Contraceptive Charm,' she said flatly. Harry just gaped at her. He couldn't even begin to imagine the shade of red he'd turned. 'Intercourse, Potter,' she said.

'I know!' Harry said quickly. 'I know what it is, I just … is it really necessary to –?'

'Yes. Pay attention. Now, draw your wand and repeat after me ...'

……………………………………………………………

'Harry!' said Mrs Weasley when Harry came home that night. 'Good, you're home. Arthur and I have to go to Headquarters for … some sort of emergency meeting.'

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'Professor McGonagall explained it to me before I left.'

'Right,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Well, Hermione and Ginny are already in bed, I think. If you hear any noises or –'

'He knows, dear,' said Mr Weasley.

'Yes, but … it doesn't hurt to say it again,' she said. 'Remember, Harry – if anything happens, grab the girls and Floo to Headquarters as quickly as you can. Do _not _try to be a hero.'

Something about her words stung Harry, and he caught himself just in time. He didn't want to snap at Mrs Weasley, especially since she'd only been trying to keep him safe with her speech.

'I – I'll be careful,' he said. 'Good night.'

He went upstairs, wondering why Mrs Weasley would feel the need to remind him that he shouldn't be a hero. And, now that he thought back on it, he realized that Mr Weasley had lectured him about this same thing last time they had to attend a meeting and leave Harry and the others behind.

Honestly, did they think he _enjoyed _trouble? Did they think he _liked _always having to be the hero? And, really, did they think that he'd ever jeopardize Hermione or Ginny's safety and make them stay at The Burrow – were it to be attacked – simply because he'd want to defend their house?

'Are you alright, Harry?'

He jumped, realizing for the first time that he'd found his way into Ginny's room.

'Huh?' he said.

'You seem upset,' Ginny said. She went over to him and put a hand on his cheek. 'Is everything okay?'

'Oh,' he said. 'No. I mean, yeah. I'm fine. I had Occlumency training today … it takes a lot out of me.' Ginny nodded sympathetically. 'Your mum said you were sleeping.'

'No, I've been doing some reading,' said Ginny. 'Come on.' She pulled him over to the bed.

'Are you going to read to me?' he asked, amused.

'No, silly,' she said. 'Arms up.'

Harry stared at her for a moment before realized she meant _his _arms. He lifted them and allowed her to pull off his shirt.

'You know, you may not feel great after training with Tonks, but you do _look _rather nice,' she said, and then squeezed the newly-formed muscle of his bicep.

Harry grinned. 'Like that, do you?' He reached out and unbuttoned her shirt. She raised her eyebrows. 'You're not the only one who gets to enjoy the view,' he said.

Ginny smiled. 'Fine.' She unzipped her pants and pulled them off in one smooth motion. 'Well?' she asked, her hands finding their way to her hips. Harry smirked and dropped his own trousers. 'Get on the bed,' she ordered.

'Oh, I think I like this side of you,' he teased. Ginny rolled her eyes. Grinning widely, he sat on the edge of the bed. Shaking her head, Ginny pushed him so he was flat on his back.

'Roll over,' she said. He obliged. He felt her straddle his lower back and he sighed contentedly when she put her hands on his shoulders, trying to work out the knots. 'Too bloody tense,' she muttered to herself. 'You need to relax, Harry.'

Harry felt a stirring down below and groaned when she moved her hands to the small of his back. 'Doing this to me isn't exactly helping, you know,' he said, and although he couldn't see her, he knew she was smiling rather wickedly.

'Well, humour me now and maybe I'll help you _really_ relax when I'm through.'

He shifted slightly to relieve pressure on, er, certain areas, and gave into her touch. Her hands moved slowly over him and he knew she was trying her hardest to drive him insane, and it was working.

When she was finished with her assault on his senses – really, the term "backrub" didn't apply, because her hands definitely hadn't stayed on his back – he turned over and she straddled his hips again, then leaned down to kiss him.

She kissed his mouth, his neck, his chest; gently nipping at his skin and brushing her fingers against him with the lightest of touches. She rubbed her lower body against his and his head was swimming. He closed his eyes and panted in reaction to her touch, his mind screaming that he should stop, but it was too good and he couldn't stop, not when she was grinding against him like that and looking down at him like she wanted to –

It took all his willpower, but he managed to put his hands on her hips and stilled her. He was so hot and so desperate for release, but this wasn't right and how could he be sure, really, that this was what Ginny wanted?

'Maybe,' he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. 'Maybe this isn't a good idea tonight,' he said softly.

'Why?' she asked, and Harry thought she sounded fed up with him.

'I … I want you so much,' he said. 'And if you keep doing that, I'm not going to be able to control myself.' Ginny snorted. 'No, really … I won't be able to … stop … and … and I don't want us to do something that you don't want to do … because –'

'Harry,' Ginny said. 'Shut up. I – I don't want you to stop yourself.'

_She doesn't mean that_, he told himself. Still, he felt a pang of desire shoot through him at her words.

'The other day, we almost … we almost made love. And you stopped us. You said that I wasn't ready for that, and maybe I wasn't. But I've thought about it, and … I am now. I want to. I want to be with you. _Really _be with you.'

He rolled them over and looked down at her. 'You're sure?' he asked. He knew that the question was redundant, that they'd talking about this more than just tonight and she would never have said anything if she hadn't been sure … but he still needed to ask. It wouldn't do well if she stopped him halfway through because she was having second thoughts, would it?

'Yeah,' she said, and then smiled. 'I love you.'

……………………………………………………………

Hermione couldn't sleep. She wandered down to the kitchen, to get a snack, and maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe it was just perfect timing – or maybe it was much, much more.

Hermione had never, ever bought into the silly little things that most children her age had.

While her Muggle friends gushed over what Santa Claus had brought them for Christmas, Hermione had smiled and tried to ignore the voice in her mind saying, _Reindeers can't fly _…_ and there's no way one person can visit every house in one night, and even if it _was_ possible, where does he store the presents_?

The next Christmas, she'd waited up all night, and just when she was starting to question her lack of belief, she'd heard it: her parents.

Instead of being devastated at the slight loss of innocence, Hermione had smiled a nice, big smile, and finally allowed her eyes to drift shut.

She'd been right.

When she'd lost her first tooth, her parents had been very pleased. And the next morning, when she'd awoken to money under her pillow, she knew that it was from her mum, and not the so-called "Tooth Fairy". She had lacked hardcore evidence, though, and it sent her on a mission. When she wasn't eating or sleeping, she was wiggling that second tooth, the one that showed the most promise of falling out soon. Her parents told her not to force it, but Hermione was determined. Finally, after a week and a half, that second tooth fell out.

Again, that night, she'd forced herself to stay awake. She didn't know how long she'd waited there, but, finally, she heard the telltale turn on the doorknob and creak of the floorboards. Surely, the Tooth Fairy would have more stealth than that. Still, when her mum slipped that dollar under her pillow, she pretended to be asleep, and her mum was none the wiser.

That was how things worked for Hermione Granger. Even at a young age, she relied on logic. It wasn't logical to think that one person could deliver presents to every single child in the world in just _one _night, or that a Tooth Fairy would actually take teeth in exchange for money – _where did the funding for all those lost teeth come from_?

That was why, when it came to this business with Ron, she couldn't understand why she didn't see logic. It was illogical. Or, maybe it was so insane that it was _sane_; so inconceivable that there was, really, no other option that made sense.

And because of this new, irrational-but-somehow-still-rational attitude of hers, she didn't do what she should have done when she heard a strange knock at the door.

Every logical part of her brain screamed that she should run up to find Harry and Ginny, that she should Floo to Headquarters and bring Mr Weasley back home, just incase this person knocking on their door in the middle of the night didn't have the best intentions.

But the logical part of her brain had been put on _mute_, it seemed, so she tiptoed her way to the door and asked, 'Wh-who's there?'

'Hermione?'

She nearly jumped out of her skin. The shiver, the prickly feelings that shot through her were almost enough to make her knees give out.

She knew that voice. Oh, Merlin, did she know that voice. But … no, she had to use _some _logic. If it was just her at risk, she would rip open that door right now. But Harry and Ginny would also been in danger, if her intuition was failing her now, and she couldn't do that.

'Who's there? Who a-are you?' she asked again, hating how her voice was shaky and afraid and all but screaming, _Is it really you_? _Have you finally come home_?

'I – I'm Ron. Hermione? Please, let me in. Don't be freaked out,' the voice said. He started rambling, probably trying to get her to believe him and to open the door, but she was already on the job.

She couldn't unlock the door fast enough. Shaky hands desperately clawed and grasped at each one, and then, _finally_, she was turning the doorknob and opening the door, and there he was, with a nasty black eye, looking wild and dirty and tired and _not quite right_, but right enough that it was him, Ron. _Her _Ron.

And then her knees really did give out, and she would've tumbled to the floor, but he caught her and held her to him.

'Hermione,' he croaked. 'Oh, fuck. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.'

There were so many things she wanted to know. Where had he been? How had he gotten back? Why in the world did he need to be sorry? Did he mean it before, when he'd said he loved her? Did he still mean it now? Why hadn't he come home sooner? What did he plan on doing if she hadn't let him in? What did he plan on doing now that she _had _let him in?

All she could do was open her mouth and then sob, too happy and too confused and just _too_ _fucking exhausted _to do anything but sink against him and bury her face in his chest.

Hadn't she said that Ron was alive, somewhere? Hadn't they all told her that she was wrong, that she was crazy and in denial and being an idiot?

'I –' she gasped against him. 'I – I was …'

'You were what?' he whispered, and it sounded as if he was maybe crying, too, if only just a little bit.

'I w-was _right_!' she exclaimed.

This wasn't good. No, this _was _good – Ron being back was the best thing she had ever and would ever know. But the way her heart was beating a mile a minute, the way she could hear the blood rushing in her head, the way she had to fight for each breath, the way she couldn't even support herself on her own two feet … oh, no, she was going to pass out. She was going to have a heart attack. No, she had to be okay … she had to stay with Ron. She had to find something to focus on, instead of the dizziness and the nausea and the suffocation.

'_Stupefy_!'

Hermione stumbled, but managed to grab onto the kitchen table and keep on her feet as Ron fell to the floor. She looked up in horror and found Ginny and Harry staring at her with wide eyes.

They'd Stunned Ron.

She pulled out her wand and pointed it at his fallen form. '_Ennervate_!'

'Get away from there, Hermione!' Ginny yelled, as Ron stirred. 'That's not Ron!'

'Yes, it is!' Hermione shouted.

Harry glared at her and began again, '_Stupe_—'

But no, she wouldn't let him Stun Ron again.

'_Stupefy_!' she shouted, so quickly that she took herself by surprise, and Harry fell before he could even get out the entire spell.

'Harry!' Ginny cried. She looked up at Hermione with shock and, yes, just a little bit of hate. 'Revive him right now,' she demanded.

'Why? So he can do the same thing to Ron?' asked Hermione. She felt Ron stand up behind her.

'THAT ISN'T RON!' Ginny screamed. 'Damn it, Hermione, Ron is DEAD! You revive Harry now, or you'll be seeing my brother again sooner than you think!'

'Ginny,' Ron said harshly, and his voice was rough but it was the _same_, and how could Harry and Ginny not tell that this was Ron? 'Ginny, I –'

'You!' Ginny exclaimed, pointing at Ron. 'You shut _up_. You are _not _my brother, and how _dare _you –'

She stopped when Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it at Harry.

'You get away from him!' she screamed, making her way to Ron with hate in her eyes. 'I mean it! I swear, I'll kill you if you so much as –'

'_Ennervate_!' he said, and Ginny stared at him with her mouth open in surprise. 'Hermione, you shouldn't have done that,' he lectured.

Harry gave a small groan and then sat up. He looked at the scene before him and then jumped to his feet. _'Accio wand_!' he yelled, stretching out his hand. When it floated into the kitchen and Harry grasped it in his hand, he muttered, '_Incarcerous_.'

Ron fell again, but remained conscious. Ginny fell to her knees and grabbed the wand from his hand, then grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her back to the other side of the kitchen, where Harry was.

'Who are you?' Harry demanded.

'That's _Ron_!' Hermione yelled. Why couldn't they accept that? All this time, they'd told her she was crazy, that she had no proof that Ron was alive. Now, he was there, _in front of their eyes_, and she was still the crazy one.

'Harry,' Ginny said quietly. 'He revived you. It wasn't me.'

'So?' Harry asked. 'That doesn't mean that he's Ron.'

'I know,' Ginny said, but Hermione thought that maybe Ginny wasn't sure one way or the other anymore. 'I just … still …'

'Who are you?' Harry asked again.

'It's _me_,' said Ron.

Harry repeated the question.

'Ron Weasley. Damn, Harry, don't you even recognize your best mate?'

Hermione frowned, because Ron's attitude was not going to help anything.

Ginny let go of Hermione's arm and took a step forward.

'Careful,' Harry warned, but let her move.

'I have a scar,' Ginny said, 'on the back of my neck. It's from Ron Weasley. And if you _are _him, you should be able to tell me how you gave me it.'

Ron said nothing for a moment, and Hermione silently urged him on. Why wasn't he answering?

'Well?' asked Ginny, still moving toward him.

'I can't answer that,' Ron said softly.

No. No, this wasn't happening.

Hermione heart sank. If he couldn't answer a simple question …

What if this wasn't Ron? Was that possible?

'Why not?' asked Ginny. 'My brother would know the answer. Are you telling me that –?'

'It's a trick question,' snapped Ron. 'It was Fred, not me, and you know that.'

Ginny's shoulders squared slightly, and Hermione thought she looked like a small, frightened child as she turned her back to Ron and walked over to Harry with an uneasy expression.

If Harry noticed any of this, he didn't show it.

'I'm going to stand here for an hour,' Harry said, 'and once that Polyjuice Potion wears off, we'll know who you really are.'

'Fine,' Ron said. 'But it's really me.'

'Then where have you been?' Ginny blurted out, and all Hermione could do was watch this entire thing play out, knowing that she would just have to be patient and wait until the hour was up, and they realized that Ron wasn't Polyjuiced.

'_Silencio_,' said Harry, and Ron's mouth moved without sound. 'Don't listen to a thing he has to say. It's all lies.' He looked back at Ron. 'If I were you, I'd start thinking of an escape plan. Once this hour is up, you're dead.'

'We have to do something,' said Ginny. 'If Mum and Dad come home early and see this …'

'You're right,' Harry sighed. 'I'll go get my Invisibility Cloak.' He handed Ginny his wand. 'Watch these two.'

Ginny nodded. 'Get my wand, too,' she said.

Harry left and Ginny waited a moment before lifting the Silencing Charm.

'I don't care what Harry said,' she said. 'You're going to answer my questions.'

……………………………………………………………

'I don't believe that you're my brother,' she said in a shaky voice. 'But – Fred _did_ give me that scar. And I want to know how you know that.'

'Ginny,' he said in a pleading voice. 'It's me. You have to believe me.'

'I don't,' she said, but _oh_, she wanted to. And maybe she did, just a little bit.

_No_. _He's lying_. _Don't listen to him_.

But it was too late, she was already selling herself on the idea that her brother was home. It was such a nice idea, too. And so easy to believe, if she just closed her eyes and allowed herself to dream.

'When we were younger, I asked if you had any idea that the person talking through your diary was Tom Riddle,' the person pretending to be Ron said. 'You told me that you didn't. And I believed you. And now, you need to believe me. _Please_.'

'This is Ron,' said Hermione. Ginny could see the desperation in her eyes. 'I've said it all along. It's really him. Look at him. Can't you _feel _it?'

Ginny didn't _know_. This was all happening so fast. If this was really Ron, then where had he been all this time? Why hadn't he rushed home weeks ago?

She knew they were both waiting for her answer, but she was so confused and so afraid that this wasn't her brother, that this was a Death Eater who had Hermione (and maybe even herself, a little bit) wrapped around his finger.

'I know how insane this looks,' said the stranger, 'and I don't blame you for not believing me. But you have to let me explain. I – I don't even know how long I've been gone. Or what's happened around here. But why can't you all just give me a fucking chance? You're acting like you would if Malfoy walked into our house.'

'For all I know,' said Ginny, 'you could be Malfoy.'

'I understand that!' Ron said exasperatedly. 'But would Malfoy know that you have a scar on the bottom of your left foot from when you were five and you stepped on a piece of glass when the twins broke Mum's favourite vase, the one Auntie Muriel gave her?'

He remembered that? Ginny didn't even remember that day – the story had been told to her years later and she'd laughed, but hadn't been able to recall it.

'Would he remember staying up all night in Grimmauld Place after Harry had a dream about Dad and that snake? Would he remember getting completely smashed for Harry's birthday? Or going to Romania to look for that Horcrux?'

_Don't listen to him_, she ordered herself. _They could've tortured Ron until he gave them this sort of information. This doesn't mean that Ron's alive_. _This doesn't mean that Ron is in front of you right now_.

But even as she ordered herself not to believe, she could feel her resolve crumbling. She looked up at Hermione, who nodded encouragingly, and Ginny wanted to do something – _anything _– that would help her be sure one way or the other. But she could hear Harry coming back into the kitchen, and she didn't want him to know that she had betrayed him and talked to this imposter.

What if he wasn't an imposter?

'_Silencio_,' she said, just in time.

Harry came in and threw the Cloak over "Ron".

'Hermione,' he said. 'What the hell were you thinking, letting him in here? We would all be dead right now if Ginny and I hadn't come downstairs in time.'

'No, we wouldn't!' said Hermione. 'This is Ron! I _told _you Ron was alive and you said I had no proof.' She gestured to the floor. 'What more proof do you need? Ron is in this room!'

'That isn't Ron!'

'YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!' she cried. 'Why are you doing this? Don't you _want _Ron to be alive?'

'More than anything!' Harry yelled. 'I wish everyday that it was me and not him. But that doesn't mean we can jump every time someone – who, for all we know, could be working for Voldemort – shows up and claims to be someone that we had a _funeral _for.'

Harry had a good point. But then again, so did Hermione. Ginny didn't know what to believe anymore. She forced herself to be objective. If that _was _Ron, that would be … better than amazing. But if it wasn't … she would have a hard time getting over it. It was best not to get her hopes up, like Harry was trying to do. Still …

Hermione shot him a dirty look and folded her arms across her chest. 'What do we do now?' she asked.

Harry sat down at the kitchen table and looked at the clock. 'We wait,' he said.

……………………………………………………………

He didn't understand it.

The hour was up ten minutes ago, but when he'd lifted the Cloak, expecting to see the face of a big, ugly Death Eater, it was still Ron lying on the floor.

But this _couldn't _be Ron. Ron was dead. He wished with everything in him that it wasn't true, but it _was_, and pretending and stalling and making excuses weren't going to make that fact any easier to cope with.

'That's it, isn't it?' asked Ginny. 'I mean, there's no other reason why –'

'He could be a Metamorphmagus,' Harry said instantly, before she had the chance to finish her thought.

Ginny frowned, and he hated the fact that he had maybe just crushed a bit of her, but he had to be realistic. It wouldn't do well for him to declare that this was Ron, go shouting it from the rooftops, and give Mrs Weasley back her son, only to end up killed in the middle of the night by "Ron", who was really a Death Eater keeping up the act long enough to do Voldemort's bidding.

He didn't fancy the role he had to play, but he also knew that he was the only one out of the three of them who would be willing to do it. He and Ginny had started out on the same team, but she must have swayed, because she was now sitting firmly on the fence. He couldn't blame her. It wasn't as though he didn't _want _to believe Hermione's words.

But he had to be the bastard right now, because he just barely handled losing his best mate once, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to do it a second time. And he knew that Ginny and Hermione wouldn't stand a chance in hell.

'This is ridiculous,' Hermione said. She used her wand to lift the Silencing Spell put on "Ron".

'What do you have to say for yourself?' Ginny asked, holding out her hand to stop him when Harry made to put the spell back on.

'Veritaserum,' the stranger croaked. 'Give me some. It'll prove –'

'We don't have any,' Harry said.

'There's probably some at Hogwarts,' Hermione suggested. 'Let's go.'

'We can't just leave,' Harry said. 'What'll Mr and Mrs Weasley think when they come home and we're all gone?'

'We'll leave them a note,' said Ginny. 'We'll say we went to Hogwarts. Besides, we'll probably be back before they get home, anyway.'

He wasn't sure it was the brightest idea in the world, but what else could they do? They needed that Veritaserum. After writing a note that Harry figured was acceptable, he levitated the stranger and they all traveled to Hogwarts by Floo.

The castle was colder than it was in the day, and beside him, Ginny shivered and wrapped her arms loosely around herself. Hermione was walking ahead of them, beside "Ron", talking a mile a minute, but Harry couldn't even begin to comprehend what she was saying. It didn't matter, anyway, because she was only talking to "Ron".

'Hey,' Harry said, taking Ginny's hand. She looked up and he wasn't surprised to see tears running down her cheeks. 'Are you okay?'

'That's – I think that's Ron,' she said quietly.

He cursed. What had Hermione done to her while he'd been upstairs? Shite. This was going to kill Ginny if this person didn't turn out to be Ron.

'Ginny –'

'No,' she said. 'I – I know you're trying to be practical and not get your hopes up and all that other rubbish, but – but can you honestly look at me and say you don't feel it? That something about this entire situation is … just … right? He knows things, Harry. Things that only he could know. About me, and about you, and about Hermione. About the Horcruxes.'

'How do you know?'

She looked down. 'I – while you were out of the room, I asked him some questions.'

'And?'

'And,' she said, 'he answered them all correctly.' She sighed. 'I'm not going nutty like Hermione. Although, really, it might turn out that Hermione isn't so nutty after all …'

'We don't know yet,' Harry said. 'One way or the other, we don't have an answer. So … so don't get your hopes up, okay?'

'Too late, I think,' Ginny said, closing her eyes momentarily.

'Do you think there will be any already-brewed Veritaserum?' Hermione asked over her shoulder.

'Let's hope,' said Ginny. 'It takes ages to brew, doesn't it? We need it now.'

They made their way to Snape's office and, after rummaging through the countless different potions, they found what they were looking for.

'Got it!' Hermione cried. She handed it to Harry and he checked the label. It was Veritaserum, all right.

His hand shook as he poured a few drops into the stranger's mouth. They waited a moment to let it kick in.

'Okay,' said Harry. 'Ready?'

'Ready,' said Hermione. Ginny nodded and gripped Harry's arm.

'Who are you?' he asked.

'Ronald Bilius Weasley,' said the person on the floor.

Ginny's nails dug painfully into Harry's arm for a moment before relaxing again.

Maybe they hadn't waited long enough. Maybe the Veritaserum hadn't started working yet.

Or maybe this really was Ron.

'Who am I?' asked Harry.

'Harry Potter,' said Ron.

'When and where did we meet?'

'It was at King's Cross. The first of September, 1991,' said Ron. 'You – you didn't know how to get onto the Platform. My mum helped you. And then we sat together on the train.'

'And who am I?' asked Hermione.

'Hermione Granger,' said Ron with a smile.

'And when did we meet?'

'On the train. You came into our compartment trying to find Neville's toad and ended up laughing at my sorry attempt to do magic.'

'What magic did you try to do?' Harry asked.

'I tried to turn my rat's whiskers yellow. Didn't work very well, though.'

Harry looked up at Ginny and Hermione. All of their questions had been answered correctly …

'What happened on Halloween of our first year?' asked Hermione.

'You were sulking in the toilets,' said Ron. 'Harry and I saved your arse from that troll. Then you saved our arses from McGonagall.'

'Who was Fluffy?'

'The three-headed dog,' said Ron. 'Nasty little bugger.'

'What was it guarding?'

'The Philosopher's Stone.'

'How did we manage to get past it?'

'Played some music, that put it right to sleep.'

'What happened on the train when we were going to Hogwarts for our second year?' asked Harry.

'Dunno,' said Ron, 'and neither do you. We took Dad's car because we couldn't get through the barrier. Crashed into the Whomping Willow with it. Broke my wand in half. Nearly got expelled. Bloody brilliant, if you ask me.'

Harry could not contain his smile at the memory.

'What is the purpose of the Whomping Willow?' asked Hermione.

'Underneath it is an underground tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. Professor Lupin goes down there every full moon.'

'Have you ever been down there?'

'In third year. Sirius dragged me down there and you both followed. That was the night Wormtail got away.'

'Who did you go to the Yule Ball with?'

'Padma Patil.'

'Who did you want to go with?' asked Ginny.

'Hermione,' he said instantly, and Hermione grinned.

'How many times did you have to take your Apparation test before passing?' questioned Hermione.

'Twice. I left my eyebrow behind the first time,' Ron said with a smile.

'Have you ever been to Romania?' asked Harry.

'Yeah,' said Ron.

'To visit Charlie?' asked Harry. He couldn't come right out and say _to look for Horcruxes_ because, even though there was no reason to believe that this _wasn't _Ron, there was still a chance and Harry had to be very careful about throwing around such information.

'No, you git,' said Ron. 'To get that Horcrux. We all had quite a time of it, too. Hermione got hurt pretty badly. Remember that? Scary as hell.'

Ginny took a deep breath. 'When you disappeared, where did you go?' she asked. 'Where have you been all this time? Why didn't you come back sooner?' The pain in her voice was obvious, and Ron flinched.

'I – I was in America,' he said. 'Some Death Eater – Amycus, he said his name was – erased my memory. Or he tried to, at least. It worked for a while. I couldn't remember any of you. I couldn't remember my own name. Amycus pretended to be a man named Joe. He befriended me and let me stay in his house with him – you know, so he'd be able to keep tabs on me without tipping me off, I guess.' He sighed. 'I started getting flashes. I was remembering things. But it wasn't enough … I couldn't figure out who I was, where I was from … _anything_. And then, one night, I remembered. I remembered _everything_. And Amycus must've figured it out. He tried to kill me. He – he said that you were all dead and that they had no use for me anymore. I nearly believed him, too.'

Hermione gasped. 'What happened?' she asked. 'How did you get away?'

'It wasn't easy, let me tell you,' said Ron. 'I had to _fight _him. And I kicked his arse. Imagine that. I slipped him some Veritaserum and made him tell me everything. He said Voldemort – yeah, I said it, _Voldemort_ – wanted to wipe my mind clean and then put me under the Imperius so I'd fight Harry and – and do all this other rubbish. He said that he realized it wasn't going to be as easy as they'd hoped, and when he told Malfoy about my slow progress, Malfoy ordered him to just up and kill me.'

'So … what did you do?' asked Ginny. 'Where's Amycus now?'

'Well … he's dead,' Ron said slowly.

'You mean that you –?'

'Ginny,' Harry said sharply. Ginny stopped talking and looked at him with wide eyes. He shook his head, telling her to back off. If Ron killed Amycus … that was his business, not theirs. He did what he had to do. Harry would have probably done the same thing to a monster who'd deliberately kept him away from his family and friends for so long.

'Well?' asked Hermione. 'Do you believe him now?'

Harry cleared his throat. 'I – I don't see _how _he could be lying. I mean, unless what we gave him wasn't Veritaserum. But it was,' he added quickly, upon seeing Hermione's tired expression.

'What should we do now?' asked Ginny, and she sounded like a small child seeking reassurance from a parent that _no_, there wasn't actually a monster under her bed.

'Letting me out of these bindings would be a nice start,' Ron piped up.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and Harry nodded in assent. Pulling out her wand, Hermione released Ron from the spell that held him down and he stood, looking hesitantly at Harry.

'You're really back, then?' Harry asked, and already he could feel that uncomfortable burning sensation behind his eyes as he thought about what that statement truly meant.

'Yeah,' Ron said softly, so softly that Harry hardly heard him. 'I'm really back.'

Harry nodded and then felt it – that awful wave of dizziness that he'd experienced only after particularly bad injuries that left him generally oozing blood from his head or arm or stomach – and then everything went black as he passed out.

……………………………………………………………

**Review.**


	29. Ron

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**No, I didn't die. But my computer did! Argh! No Internet access for nearly two weeks – I attempted writing out the chapter on paper, so it would be ready to go when my computer was fixed, but it turns out I'm lazy, and when faced with hand cramps, I write incredibly shorter chapters.**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ron  
**……………………………………………………………

'Oh, bugger,' said Ginny when Harry collapsed.

'What happened to him?' asked Hermione. She felt her heart catch in her throat. Was he okay? She had just gotten Ron back. She couldn't lose Harry.

She knew that she was overreacting, and that Harry had probably just fainted, but she _obviously _wasn't thinking clearly. Ron was back. She'd been talking about it for weeks. She'd insisted for weeks that he was alive, and nobody had believed her. It was only now, as she stood beside him, that she began to realize that a part of her hadn't believed everything she'd said.

But she had been RIGHT. Of course. She was always right. It was no surprise. She didn't plan on rubbing it in anyone's face or anything like that, but it was good to know that she hadn't gone crazy. Even if everyone around her thought she had. She felt triumphant in a way she hadn't before – this beat out anything she'd felt in the past, even when she'd become a prefect or when she'd received eleven OWLs.

'He passed out, of course,' Ginny said with a small smile. 'He wouldn't be Harry if he didn't.' She looked at Ron and sniffed. 'Are – are you going to hug me now, or what?'

Ron laughed softly and then pulled his sister toward him. 'I love you,' he said. 'C'mon, don't cry. I'm no good with girls who cry.'

'I'm not crying,' Ginny insisted, even as her shoulder shook from the force of her sobs.

'Of course you aren't,' he said. He held her tightly and Hermione thought the sight of them together – Ron comforting Ginny just as he had after the Chamber of Secrets and the Department of Mysteries and the Battle at Hogwarts – was one of the sweetest things she'd ever seen.

'I missed you, you git,' she said. 'Mum's going to lose it.'

'I'm so sorry,' he said. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine. You're here,' said Ginny.

'No,' said Ron. 'Really, are you okay? I mean – nothing happened at Malfoy Manor? And you haven't gone searching for Horcruxes without me? And – and Harry, he treats you okay?'

Ginny nodded against him. 'I –'

'What in the _world _is going on here?'

Hermione jumped and her eyes flew from Ron and Ginny. Professor McGonagall stood there with her wand pointed out. Her mouth was a stern, thin line. Her eyes were wide with shock, and when she spotted Ron, she gave a rather audible gasp.

'Mr Weasley?'

'Professor,' Ron said, letting go of Ginny and straightening out. Hermione took a moment to admire him. He had a rather nasty black eye and a large gash on the side of his head. He'd been Stunned by Harry and tied up on his kitchen floor like an idiot. He'd been dragged to Hogwarts and questioned by his friends. Though the things they'd done had been quite necessary, Hermione knew that she'd be feeling somewhat humiliated if she were in his situation.

Ron was a proud person – how had he not snapped? Had he grown up? When had that happened?

'Miss Weasley, Miss Granger,' said McGonagall. She glanced down at Harry's unconscious form and then trained her wand on Ron. 'Come away from there.'

'What?' asked Ginny. 'Professor … you don't understand! This is my brother!'

McGonagall's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. 'What happened to Mr Potter?'

'He passed out,' said Ginny.

'We brought Ron here,' Hermione said, trying to explain. She knew that she would have to present a logical argument if there was ever any hope of McGonagall believing them. 'He showed up at The Burrow tonight. Harry and Ginny didn't believe it was him at first. We waited an hour, to see if someone had just been Polyjuiced. After that, Harry thought that maybe this person was a Metamorphmagus. We brought him here and gave him some Veritaserum. It's Ron. He answered all of our questions correctly. And they were things that nobody except for him would know.' Ginny nodded in agreement.

McGonagall appeared to consider this for a moment. 'Did you think to use a Recording Charm on the conversation?'

Hermione frowned. 'No,' she said honestly. 'We didn't even think of it.'

'Mr Weasley is aware that we held a funeral for him?' asked McGonagall, and Ron stiffened just a bit. 'Is he aware that we have not seen hide nor hair of him in over a month?'

Ron spoke up. 'I know,' he said. 'But I have an explanation for everything. I was in America. The Death Eaters were holding me there. Look, you have no reason to believe me, but –'

McGonagall nodded, and went to say something, but stopped. 'Miss Weasley, please help me escort Harry to the Hospital Wing. I believe he would be most comfortable in a bed.'

A look of confusion crossed Ginny's features, but she nodded and followed behind McGonagall and a levitating Harry.

For the first time since he'd come back, Hermione was alone with Ron. She turned to look at him, feeling incredibly awkward. What was going on? This was Ron. Since when did she get nervous around him? Okay, so she had been nervous around him many times. But she was never this … _scared_ of him before.

'Hermione,' he said.

She bit her lip. Something occurred to her. 'Is the Veritaserum still working?' she asked. Ron nodded. 'Do you mind if I ask you something?'

'No,' he said. 'You can ask me anything. I'd tell the truth even if I hadn't taken the potion.'

Hermione knew this, and it was what she was scared of. Still, she had to ask. It was better to be shot down than to be led on, yeah?

'Did you mean it?' asked Hermione, her voice barely above a whisper.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' he said softly.

'What you said to – to me. Just before you left to go to Malfoy Manor,' she said. 'Did you mean it? Because I –'

'Yes,' he said, looking at her intently. 'I – of course I did. I do. I always have.'

'So why did you date Lavender?'

'Because I was in love with you,' he said.

Hermione frowned. 'That doesn't make any sense,' she said slowly.

'I'm not the brightest person in the world,' Ron said seriously.

'You'll have to do better than that,' she said, even though it didn't even _matter _to her right now. All she wanted to do was let Ron take her into his arms. But she needed answers, and it was better to get them sooner, rather than later.

'I – I know I teased you about Vicky all the time, but – but that was just to get you riled up. Anyone who knows us knows that we fight constantly … but I like that about us. So I set you off sometimes, and I'm a git for doing it, and I know that, but I can't help it,' he said. 'Then Ginny said that you snogged Vicky and – and I knew that it was fourth year, and that it was my fault for not asking you to go to the Ball with me in the first place, but it still felt like someone kicked me in the gut. I don't know why I thought that dating Lavender would be a good idea … I guess I just figured that you had no real reason to like me in the first place, but I thought maybe you did anyway, and – and if you knew that I was rubbish when it came to girls and kissing and all that other shite, I thought maybe you'd realize that I wasn't worth it at all.' He sighed. 'And then you started up with McLaggen and I figured you never fancied me at all. But that's stupid, and I'm not blaming you for anything. If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have even looked twice at that git. Like I said, I'm not the brightest. Lavender … at the time, she seemed like the answer. It was only after she started calling herself my girlfriend, and you wouldn't even look at me, that I figured out the only reason you and I weren't together was because of her.'

She felt him grab her hand.

'Lavender isn't my girlfriend anymore,' he said. 'Hell, she never really was.'

Hermione smiled. 'What are you saying?' she asked, though she thought maybe she already knew.

'I'm saying that I'm not smart like you –'

'_Ron_.'

'– and I'm not funny like Ginny, or brave like Harry, or anything else, really. I'm just me,' he told her. 'I have stupid red hair and I'm too tall. I have too many family members and not enough money. I act like an arse without even realizing it.'

'No, you –'

'Let me finish,' he said. 'The moment I met you, I told myself I hated you. I told myself that you were bossy and annoying and just too bloody perfect at everything. And I still couldn't get you out of my head,' he said. 'You infuriate me. You're too smart and too proper and too stubborn. You always lecture me. In school, you made me do my homework when all I wanted to do was play chess or go flying or sleep. You made me do patrols. You never let me take House points away from Slytherin just because they were Slytherins. You have a ridiculous passion about house elves that I will never, _ever _understand. But you're all I think about – even when I didn't know my name, I knew you. And I am so hopelessly in love with you that I'm actually standing here, saying all this, acting like some stupid wanker in those romance books my mum reads.'

Hermione felt her heart catch in her throat. 'I – I don't really know what to say,' she confessed.

Ron grinned and shrugged. 'Talking isn't everything,' he said, and then pulled her to him. He kissed her softly, slowly, and it was so long overdue that Hermione wasn't even embarrassed when McGonagall came back and interrupted them.

'Come with me,' she said.

'Where are we going?' asked Hermione.

The answer turned out to be Dumbledore's office. Hermione was unsurprised to see Professor Dumbledore's portrait mounted on the wall, along with the other former Headmasters'.

She was surprised, however, at what he had to say.

'Ronald Weasley,' Dumbledore said brightly. 'I was beginning to wonder if you would show up.'

……………………………………………………………

When Harry awoke, he was immediately greeted with an inexplicable gnawing sense of nervousness in the pit of his stomach.

He groaned and sat up. He was in the Hospital Wing – he'd woken up here enough times to be able to identify the room with just a glance. He looked around for Madam Pomfrey, not realizing at first that she, like the rest of the Hogwarts staff, was no longer at Hogwarts.

He swallowed thickly and rubbed his eyes. What happened? Why did he pass out?

_Ron_.

Ron was alive. Ron was back. Ron was alive and back and _here, _at Hogwarts, right now.

How long had he been out? Was it the next day? Did the Weasleys already know that Ron was back? Or had it merely been a few minutes? How had he gotten to the Hospital Wing, then? Was McGonagall back? Where was Ginny?

Harry found himself on his feet and felt around for his glasses until his fingers made contact and he put them on. Suddenly, the nervousness was gone, replaced with a quick rush of relief, followed by excitement.

'Harry?'

He spun around and saw Ginny behind him. He wasn't surprised. It was almost as if he'd sensed her coming up behind him. 'Gin?'

'You're up,' she said. 'Good. Come on, we've got to go.'

'Where are we going?'

'McGonagall's got Ron and Hermione in Dumbledore's office,' she said. 'The Order's up there, too. We have to meet them.'

'What did McGonagall say?' asked Harry.

'She nearly had kittens!' said Ginny. 'She walked in right after you passed out. She saw you on the floor and Ron standing over you, and she nearly hexed him into next week.'

Oh, no … Harry hadn't even _considered _the thought that the adults – other than the Weasleys – wouldn't believe them. Would they have to do the Veritaserum again? Wouldn't they have to wait until the last batch wore off? How long would that take? And how long would a second questioning take? Harry didn't want Ron to spend another night away from The Burrow.

'Can we go now?' he asked.

Ginny nodded. 'Yeah,' she said. 'McGonagall brought you down here after we explained everything to her. You've been out about a half hour.'

They began walking; the only sound was that of their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. To his right, he heard Ginny sniff, and when he looked at her, he could see through the faint lighting of the moon that she was crying.

'Is everything okay?'

She sniffed again. 'I just don't understand,' she said. 'How could this have happen? We held a funeral. We mourned. We were in emotional hell. And we were _wrong_? Kingsley said he _saw _–'

'Kingsley saw wrong, obviously,' said Harry. 'They could've Polyjuiced some random person – Muggle, probably – and just killed them. Maybe they knew we were doing the Wandering Spell, so they did it, because they knew we'd see. There are a million different possibilities. I don't _know_ why this happened … but it did. And we need to just be thankful that everything turned out all right, yeah?'

She nodded. 'My brother's back,' she said. 'I don't know _how _but … Hermione was right all along. What else is new?' She bit her lip. 'I'm nervous. I mean, what's going to happen next? What if Mum reacts badly? What if nobody believes Ron? I can't lose my brother again, Harry.'

'You won't,' he said. 'We'll make them believe.' He kissed her and took her hand. 'Isn't your mum going to panic when she gets home and sees that we aren't there?'

'McGonagall spoke to her right after she found us here. She told Mum we had to talk to her about something and that we'd be back soon … Mum's probably worried sick, of course, but she knows that we're safe here.'

'Okay,' Harry said. 'Let's go find Ron and Hermione.'

……………………………………………………………

'Finally up, are you?' asked Ron, once Ginny had returned to Dumbledore's office with Harry in tow. 'For a minute there, I thought you'd _died_, or something.'

Hermione smacked his arm in reprimand, but she was biting her lip against a smile. Harry let out a surprised, scandalized laugh. Ginny couldn't help but grin. It was so unexpected and inappropriate. It was such a _Ron _thing to say, and she could hardly take it.

'Mr Weasley,' McGonagall scolded.

'Let them have their fun, Minerva,' came Dumbledore's voice. Ginny jumped. She still wasn't used to the idea that Professor Dumbledore was living in one of those portraits. 'There are so few reasons to laugh in today's world.'

'What did I miss?" asked Harry.

'We questioned him,' said Lupin. 'As far as we can tell, everything checks out.'

'What does that mean, exactly?' Ginny asked. 'I mean, what do we do now? Go home and get a good night's sleep?'

'Your family will need to be alerted of this immediately,' Kingsley piped up. 'It's the middle of the night now, though. Perhaps it would be best if you –'

'My mum will skin us alive if we wait until tomorrow to tell her this!'

Kingsley smiled. 'Of course,' he said. 'What I meant to say was perhaps it would be best if you went home and told your parents now, and let them decide how to tell your brothers, Ginny.'

'You – you mean _I _have to be the one to tell them?' she asked. Her parents would never believe her! They'd just think she'd gone as crazy as Hermione. Of course, she deserved it. She'd spent weeks treated Hermione the same way. 'Can't one of you tell them? They'll believe it if it comes from one of you.'

Tonks nodded sympathetically. 'Who would you rather hear this sort of news from?' she asked. 'A member of the Order or a member of your family?'

The answer was, of course, that Ginny would rather hear the news from a family member. But wasn't the Order just extended family?

There was no way around this one, and she knew it. Nobody else could tell her mum and dad. They wouldn't believe Hermione, and they'd both have heart attacks if Ron suddenly walked into the kitchen and announced that he was home. 'Okay,' said Ginny.

'I'll go with you,' Harry offered. He grinned at her and Ginny thought that he'd better wipe that look off his face soon, or it'd be more than clear what they'd been up to.

'Thanks,' she said, and then she felt her face break out into the same expression Harry's held.

'Well,' said McGonagall. 'If everyone is satisfied here, it would be best for Mr Weasley to be shown to the Hospital Wing.'

'I'm fine,' Ron said.

'You don't want a potion to fix that black eye of yours?' asked Tonks. 'You've got some nasty cuts, too.'

'Oh,' Ron said. 'Yeah, I guess that would be okay.' He looked at Hermione. 'You, uh, want to come with me?'

'No,' Hermione declared. 'Nobody is going anywhere until Professor Dumbledore explains himself.'

'Hermione,' Lupin said. 'What are you talking about?'

Yes, Ginny was rather curious herself. Why was Hermione glaring at Dumbledore? It wasn't like her at all to disrespect authority.

'Miss Granger, perhaps you should –'

'It is quite all right, Minerva,' said Dumbledore benevolently. 'You are curious, I presume, at my reaction toward Mr Weasley's return?'

'Yes,' Hermione said. 'You weren't shocked at _all_. And you didn't even question whether or not it was really Ron. You defended him to the Order. It was almost as if you'd _known _that Ron was coming back.' The wheels were clearly turning in Hermione's head now. 'But if that was true, surely you would have told someone that he was still alive, instead of letting us all suffer for so long, wouldn't you? Which can only mean that you had no idea Ron was still alive. In which case, why would you be so quick to believe me when I said Ron was back? Everyone else wrote me off as crazy. Harry and Ginny didn't believe at first, and Ron had been standing right in front of them!' She paused for a moment. 'You must have known something was up,' she concluded. 'You must have been informed that _something _was going on with the other side … and when you saw Ron, the pieces just came together.'

Ginny's eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling. How could Hermione _do _that? Figuring everything out so easily, as if someone was whispering the answers in her ear.

'I have always said you are one of the brightest minds to ever attend this school,' Dumbledore said.

When he said nothing more, Hermione prompted: 'Does that mean I'm right? Someone told you? Who? A_ spy_ for our side, pretending to be a Death Eater?'

'I am afraid I cannot allow this discuss to go any further,' Dumbledore said, looking around at them all, but Ginny could've sworn he'd winked when his eyes landed on her.

_Snape_.

She felt Harry grab her hand. 'We should get back to The Burrow,' he said. 'Your mum is probably waiting up for us, worried sick.'

Ginny nodded and prepared herself for what was no doubt going to be an emotional next few hours.

'Where have you _been_?' Mrs Weasley demanded when Ginny and Harry entered the kitchen. Harry had been correct. She was sitting at the table with a cup of tea. Ginny was relieved to see that her father was also awake. This way, at least, they wouldn't have to waste time trying to get him out of bed. 'And where is Hermione?'

'Hermione's still at Hogwarts,' Harry said.

'Oi, Mum, can we go now?'

For the first time since coming into the room, Ginny realized that Fred and George were present.

'What're you doing here?' Ginny asked.

'Mum showed up at our flat –'

'In the middle of the bloody night –'

'And started going off about how the three of you were missing,' finished George.

'_So_,' Fred said, turning back to Mrs Weasley. 'You know that they're all in one piece. Can we go now?'

'No!' said Ginny. It would be much easier to tell everyone the news if Fred and George were there. At least they would help control the situation – and Mrs Weasley, when she went insane.

'No?' asked George. 'C'mon, Ginny. We're tired! Big day at the shop tomorrow. We're introducing a new line of –'

'It doesn't matter,' Ginny said. 'You should stay. We – Harry and I – have something to tell you all. It's kind of important. And, um, it's probably best if you all sit down.'

'Bugger,' said Fred. 'Harry's gone and knocked you up, hasn't he?'

'_FRED_! That isn't funny,' scolded Mrs Weasley. She turned back to Ginny with wide eyes. 'You – you're not pregnant, are you?'

'P-pregnant?' Harry squeaked, at the same time as Ginny yelled, '_No_!'

'Ignore them,' Mr Weasley said, though he was blushing scarlet. 'What do you need to tell us?'

……………………………………………………………

'WHERE IS MY SON?'

Before Ron even had the opportunity to register the voice as his mum's, he was nearly tackled from behind. He was then spun around and kissed, pinched, and prodded until he was beginning to wonder _why _he'd been so anxious to see his mum.

'RONNIE!' was the only thing he made out before Mrs Weasley buried her face in his shoulder and dissolved into sobs.

'Mum,' he said, and then awkwardly wrapped his arms around her. It wasn't as though he wasn't happy to see her. No, that was hardly the case. But she was hugging him so tightly that he – quite literally – couldn't breathe.

Ron looked over the top of his mum's head and saw his father, looking weary and still a little shocked by the revelation that his son was alive. He came over and the three of them embraced, and Ron was glad that Hermione had stayed in the Great Hall with Tonks to "give him a personal moment with his parents", because he was quite sure he was crying harder than he'd done before.

When his head was throbbing and his throat was sore, he let go of his parents and wiped his eye. 'Can we go home now?' he asked, and the thought of falling asleep in his bed tonight – in his tiny room, in his tiny house, the one that was held up by magic and had a ghoul and so many other things that had always embarrassed him in the past – was appealing in a way it had never been before.

……………………………………………………………

**Review! Hopefully, with March Break upon me, the next chapter will be out sooner.**


	30. The Thickening

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Thirty: The Thickening  
**……………………………………………………………

'First year.'

'_What_? You're lying!'

'I swear!'

Ron's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. 'First year?' he asked. 'But we were horrible to each other.'

'We've always been horrible to each other,' Hermione said with a small smile. 'At any rate, it wasn't as if I _knew _how I felt in first year. It's just … that's when it started, I suppose.'

'Why?' he asked, still not understanding.

She shrugged. 'You saved me from that troll,' she said. 'And although I'm sure Harry had to all but drag you along when the two of you went off looking for me, it was still sweet.'

'If you say so,' said Ron. 'So, when did you finally know that you were hopelessly in love with me?'

Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Ah, it's nothing to be embarrassed about,' he teased. 'You were just powerless to resist my charm. I have an amazing sexual prowess, y'know.'

'Did Lavender tell you that?'

'Oh, _ouch_.'

Hermione smiled. 'Around third or fourth year,' she said. 'I mean, I'd known that I felt differently about you than I did Harry, but …'

'You didn't want to admit it?' he said, knowing that it was what she meant, because he had experienced the same thing.

'Exactly,' she said. She looked at him expectantly. 'What about you?'

'What _about _me?'

Hermione put her hands on her hips.

'Oh, come on,' he said. 'I've already given one too many romantic speeches for tonight. Let's just go to bed.'

'_Ron_.'

Ron grinned. 'All right,' he said, putting up his hands. 'Second year, when you were Petrified. I've never been more worried about anyone in my entire life. But I didn't want to admit why. I spent the next four years pretending it didn't matter, that you were just my friend. I suppose Vicky got me a little riled up. But other than that …'

He hated talking about this sort of stuff. Why couldn't they just go back to snogging? They'd come up to his room twenty minutes ago, and they'd spent the last ten _talking_. What the bloody hell was Hermione playing at?

It wasn't as though he didn't enjoy talking to her, because he did. But he'd spent the last six years _talking to her_. What was it going to take to get somewhere? Did he need to _actually _die?'

He flopped onto his bed, his nose into his pillow. 'My pillow smells like you,' he told her, sounding muffled.

'Oh,' said Hermione. 'That's because I, um, that is … I've been sleeping here at night.'

Ron looked up at her and grinned. 'You've been sleeping in my bed?' She nodded, looking somewhat embarrassed. 'What d'you wear?'

'Git,' Hermione said.

'Wait – does Harry sleep here, too?' he asked. It wasn't as though he didn't trust Harry and Hermione alone together – really, he trusted them with his life – but he would be lying if he said the idea didn't bother him in at least one way.

'No,' Hermione said. 'He – he sleeps in Bill's room.' There was something about the way she said it that made him think she was lying, but he decided not to push her. The last thing he needed was her getting hacked off at him tonight.

He moved over on his bed, making room for Hermione, and she lay down beside him. 'Okay, then.' Turning onto his side, he smiled cheekily and said, 'Nobody's home and we're lying on my bed.'

Hermione laughed. 'Harry, Ginny, and the twins are downstairs,' she said.

He felt like asking, _So bloody what_? What did it matter if they were downstairs? What did it matter if every member of Magical Britain were downstairs? He just wanted a nice snog from the girl he'd loved since he could remember.

Still, Ron knew better, and so he gave in. 'Fine,' he said. 'Let's talk some more. What did I miss while I was gone? Have any other Horcruxes been found?'

'No,' she said.

'Are we close to finding one?'

She frowned. 'I'm not really sure. The Order must be working on it.'

'You haven't had any meetings?'

'No, there have been meetings … I think,' she said. 'Harry's been invited back to the Order, but he doesn't want to rejoin. And I would probably be allowed in, since I'll be eighteen soon, but I haven't had any interest.'

'Why not?'

'These past few weeks,' she said, 'it's as if I've been up here.' She held out her hand above them. 'Just … floating. Waiting for something – for you, I guess. And for the first time since what happened at the wedding, I feel like I'm – like I'm back on the ground.'

He was such a selfish prick.

He was so glad to be home that he hadn't even considered the toll his absence had taken on everyone else – especially Hermione.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

She smiled. 'You have no reason to be sorry.'

He frowned. Why was she being so nice to him?

'Yeah,' he said, 'I do. I should've caught on sooner. I mean, come _on_. If it had been you, you would've figured everything out in a bloody day! All these crazy things were happening and I knew something wasn't right, but did I ever question it? No! I just – I just believed everything everyone told me. I can't even believe what an idiot I was!'

'You are not an idiot! None of that was your fault! Don't think for a second that it was!'

'But –'

'It is not your fault. You didn't ask for this. And even if it was your fault, it doesn't matter. You're here now. You're _home_.'

'I know, but –'

'Ron,' she said, putting her fingers to his lips. 'You need to shut up.'

He tried to hold back his smile, he really did, but it was hard not to smile when he was with her.

'If you keep talking like this, I'm going to have to hit you,' she said. 'And I really don't want to do that. You _do _remember what happened to Malfoy, don't you?'

He laughed then, and it was as if some sort of spell was broken. 'Yeah, I remember,' he said. 'That'd be pretty hard to forget.'

She smiled widely and closed her eyes.

'What day is it?' he asked.

'The Fifteenth,' she said. 'Actually, it's past midnight. It's the sixteenth now.'

Something clicked in his head. 'That means it's your birthday soon. Isn't it?'

She opened her eyes and just looked at him for a minute, and he cursed in his head. It probably wasn't her birthday. He'd probably gotten it wrong, and now she was going to get angry with him because he couldn't remember a simple date. Hell, the way things were going for him lately, he wouldn't be surprised if the nineteenth of September was Lavender's birthday.

To his surprise (not to mention relief), she nodded.

'We should – we should have a big party, or something,' he declared.

'That would be nice,' Hermione said. 'But only if we celebrate Ginny's birthday, too. We, well, we didn't get to before. She spent the day in St Mungo's with Harry.'

Ron tensed. 'Oh,' he said. 'Right.' His sister hadn't even had a proper sixteenth birthday because of him. 'Well, yeah! We'll celebrate both birthdays. It'll be great.'

'You're sure your mum won't mind?' asked Hermione.

'Are you _kidding_?' he said. 'Mum loves fussing over people.'

'That's true,' said Hermione.

'So,' Ron said after a moment. 'What else have I missed?'

'Not much, to be honest.'

'What about my sister? And Harry? How are they?'

'They're … good,' said Hermione.

'Just good? Are they together?'

'They're … great, I suppose,' she said slowly. 'And, um, together?'

Ron made a face. 'I don't mean that way!' he said. 'Yuck. No, I'd definitely rather not know about that. I don't think I'd fancy having to kill Harry.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Then I suppose the answer is yes. They're together. Although, I don't think you need to worry about killing him for quite a while.'

'Thank Merlin for that … and what about my parents? How've they been?'

He knew that Hermione probably didn't feel like being interrogated right now, but he had missed so much. Even if it didn't seem like anything to her, every tiny thing that happened was something that he hadn't been there to see and experience for himself. What if he was reunited with his brothers, only to discover that Percy had blue hair, a nose ring, and a wife?

'As good as could be expected,' she said. 'And before you ask,' she continued quickly, obviously sensing where this was headed, 'your brothers are all alive and well and probably on their way over here as we speak, so we should really get back downstairs.'

……………………………………………………………

'What d'you think they're doing up there?' asked Fred.

'Knowing them,' said George, 'Ron's probably sleeping and Hermione's probably reading a book.'

Alicia smacked his arm. 'You know,' she said, 'it's the middle of the night. I couldn't be happier that your brother is alive, and I have no problem staying here for moral support, but I'm not going to sit here if you're going to act like a giant prat.'

'That goes for us, too,' Angelina said, looking at Fred. The twins nodded, and Ginny nearly laughed at how their girlfriends had them completely wrapped around their fingers. She wondered if she and Harry were like that, and decided that perhaps it wasn't something she wanted for them. Although it _would _come in rather handy sometimes …

'This is just so … amazing,' Fred said seriously, dropping down onto the couch. 'I mean, really, am I the only one who half-believes I'm going to wake up any second?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No,' she said softly. 'This is a lot to process. But it's real. Trust me; I've dreamt about this enough to know the difference between dream and reality.'

They fell silent for a moment.

'Ron's _alive_,' Harry said. 'He's alive and upstairs.'

Ginny smiled at him and leaned her head against his chest. His hand was tracing small circles on her back and she yawned, her lack of sleep finally catching up to her. It had to be four in the morning by now. She wanted to sleep, could feel herself giving into the pull of slumber, but also wanted to stay awake. Her parents were with the rest of her brothers now, probably at Headquarters, telling them the news about Ron. And they'd all be back here any second, loud and excited and anxious to see their brother.

She knew that their happiness would be contagious, that she'd feel re-energized the moment everyone was together again, but that moment was a way off, and all she wanted to do now was rest.

She shifted slightly in Harry's lap and opened her eyes. Her brothers, Alicia, and Angelina weren't there anymore. They were probably in the kitchen getting snacks. That, or the twins had gone upstairs to pester Ron and Hermione, and the girls had gone after them, promising hell if they didn't leave the pair alone.

She looked up at Harry, who was smiling at her. Something about the look in his eyes tugged at her heartstrings. She wasn't sure how she'd tricked him into loving her, but she was hoping with everything she had that he wouldn't come to his senses anytime soon. No, she rather liked him like this.

'What're you looking at?' she asked, smiling.

'Just you,' he said. 'You're amazing. D'you know that?'

She just stared at him. _He _was the amazing one. He was the one who'd acted strong and responsible when Ron had come back and they hadn't been sure what to do. _He _was the one who'd put his personal feelings aside and acted like the adult, all to keep them safe.

Out of all the traits a person could have, Ginny never thought she could be so turned on by _responsibility _and _level-headedness_. She lifted her head up and he took it as an invitation to kiss her. They shifted and she ended up lying underneath him, but his weight pressing down on her was warm and comforting, and so she didn't mind all that much.

'Oi! Get off and let her breathe!'

_Busted_, Ginny thought. Harry rolled off her and held out his hand, pulling her off the couch and onto her feet. They stood face-to-face with an amused Hermione and an annoyed Ron.

'Get a room,' Ron said, and then appeared to reconsider this. 'Wait – no. Don't do that. Just … go in the kitchen.' The small smile he offered Harry betrayed him.

Harry grinned at Ginny and the four of them headed toward the kitchen. Ginny felt someone's hand clasp her wrist and turned to find Ron looking at her expectantly. She stood still and let Harry and Hermione go into the kitchen without them.

'He's different, you know,' Ron said after a moment. 'Harry, that is. He's different around you.'

She raised her eyebrows. Was this a good thing, or a bad thing? Was Ron going to yell at her for somehow breaking his best mate?

'He is?' she asked.

'Yeah,' he said, nodding. 'He's … just … different. Dunno. Happier, I guess. Not so … broody and … _Harry_-ish.'

Ginny laughed at this.

'Well, you know what I mean,' he said. 'I – you _do _know, don't you?'

'I guess,' she said. She shrugged. Truthfully, she couldn't say that she'd noticed a change in Harry.

'Shite, Ginny, when did you grow up?' he asked, running a hand through his hair. 'It's like I left and you were this _kid_ and now you're – you're just _not_.'

'You've only been gone a month,' Ginny said. 'I can't have changed that much.'

All her life, she'd fought to be seen as more than a child, the youngest Weasley. And now, faced with the prospect of being a _young woman_, she was suddenly feeling desperate to hang on to a scrap of childhood. For in childhood, nothing but the monsters under her bed (or in her diary) could hurt her. And if they did somehow get through, there had always been someone – mainly Harry – there to protect her or her family. But Ron had disappeared, and nobody had been able to do anything to stop it. Growing up was brilliant in many ways, she decided, thinking of her relationship with Harry, but the fleeting of all innocence was something she could've done without.

'You did,' Ron insisted. 'Hermione did, too. And Harry. Did you _see _him before? Bloody brilliant.' Ron looked down. 'It's hard to realize that life goes on without you, y'know? It's like none of you really needed me at all.'

Ginny stared at him for a long, hard moment, trying to decide if he was being serious or not. And when she saw the look on his face – the look of complete and utter vulnerability – she did the only thing a decent sister would do.

She slapped him hard across the face.

His eyes went wide and his hand flew to his cheek. '_Ouch_!' he said, sounding scandalized.

'I'm not coming to your pity party,' she declared. 'You don't think we need you? Merlin, do you know _anything_?'

'Wha—?'

'I cried for you,' she said. 'And Hermione cried for you. And I wouldn't even be surprised if _Harry _cried for you. We _love _you, you stupid git. Not because you're good for an occasional laugh or because you're the only one who wants to be Keeper when we play Quidditch in the backyard. Harry and I couldn't even stand to go into your room because it hurt too much. Hermione slept in your smelly bed every night because it was the closest she could get to you. It hurt every time someone said your name. I've gained _three_ pounds because Mum kept setting a spot for you at dinner every night, and she'd cry if we didn't clear your plate. Hermione was bloody miserable. Harry was so lonely. You have _no _idea what life was like around here without you. It was _terrible _and you had better take damn good care of yourself, because I am _not _going through that ever again.' She jabbed her finger into his chest with every word. 'You – you did the bravest thing I've ever seen someone do when you jumped in front of me at the Manor, and I am forever grateful for that. You're a _hero_, Ron. So don't start acting like a pathetic little bugger. You are not twelve, and I refuse to treat you as though you are!'

For a moment, she thought Ron was going to cry. His mouth was a tight line and his chin was quivering slightly. Then he burst out laughing and hugged her.

'You're the best sister I could ask for,' he said. 'C'mon, let's go. Mum and Dad'll be home soon.'

……………………………………………………………

'Do it again!'

Harry complied by stretching out his hand and Summoning the book that Hermione was holding.

Ron jumped off his bed. 'This is so brilliant,' he said, staring at Harry in awe. 'Do it again.'

'He's done it six times already,' said Hermione.

'But it's so cool!' Ron exclaimed. 'Teach me to do it.'

'I – I can't,' Harry said. 'McGonagall says it's something you just have to be able to do. You can't really _learn _it.'

Ron looked only slightly deterred by this. 'Well, whatever,' he said. 'I'm still going to see McGonagall later tonight and ask if I can train with you.'

Harry was rather sure that Ron, who wouldn't be on the program voluntarily, would soon get sick of the late nights, early mornings, and extreme physical and mental exertion. He'd probably decide that it was ridiculous, and give up after a week or two. But still, for that week or two that Ron would be training, Harry thought he'd be having quite a bit more fun than usual.

'Think she'll let you?' asked Ginny.

Ron shrugged. 'As if she's going to turn down someone wanting to protect themselves.'

'Well, better you than me,' said Ginny. 'Harry gets up far too early. I know how much you like your sleep, Ron. And if you start this training, you won't be getting much of it.'

Hermione yawned. 'Speaking of sleep,' she said, 'let's turn in.'

'What about lunch?' said Ron. As if on cue, his stomach growled.

'We haven't been to bed yet,' Harry said. 'I've got a late training session with Tonks today … she won't go any easier just 'cause I've been up all night with you lot.' He looked at Ron. 'And if you're getting up with me tomorrow, you'll need all the sleep you can get.'

'Fine,' said Ron. 'Let's sleep, then.'

He and Hermione climbed into his bed, and Harry and Ginny climbed into Harry's.

Harry closed his eyes, and almost immediately felt himself drifting off to sleep —

_He is back at Hogwarts_. _But it's different this time_._ He is writing something on a wall_ …_ but wait, that isn't his hand _…_ and those letters are too curvy to be his _…

_He steps back to admire his work_.

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED_.

_ENEMIES OF THE HEIR_,_ BEWARE_.

_The voice in his head tells him that he has done well, to go straight to bed and to tell no one of this_ …

_The next morning_,_ he goes down to breakfast to find everyone talking about what happened last night_. _It seems oddly familiar_, _and he is scared_._ He feels bile rising in his throat at the thought that he cannot place himself anywhere at the time of the incident_ …

_HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER_.

_Everything is black_. _He opens his eyes and – what_?_ – he is looking at himself_. _His mouth begins to move_, _forming words he doesn't mean to say_.

'_Harry – oh, Harry –'_

_Why is his voice different_? _It sounds so much like Ginny _…

_Suddenly_,_ without warning_, _Tom is back_. _'Bad move, Harry Potter,' Tom says_.

_What's going on_? …

_He watches_, _apparently from Ginny's body_, _as the Basilisk roars to life again and trains itself on the twelve-year-old version of himself that is standing before him_. _He tries to move, but it is as if Ginny's body is stuck_. _He looks down at her tiny wrists and sees the shackles bolting her to the floor_.

_But wait _… _that isn't right _…

_Where did the shackles come from_? …

'_HARRY!'_ _His mouth moves, but it is Ginny's voice that rings out in the Chamber again_. _He is struggling against the bonds that hold him_, _trying desperately to free himself_, _but it is no use_. _'HARRY! No! Tom – please – take me instead _…_' _—

Harry awoke to a pain in his shin, caused by Ginny's foot.

He took deep breaths and reached up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Beside him, Ginny was still moving about in her sleep.

'Gin,' he said, and reached a hesitant hand out toward her. 'C'mon. Wake up.'

Ginny's eyes snapped open and she inhaled sharply. She jerked out of his grasp and nearly fell out of bed in a mad attempt to put distance between them.

'Ginny, it's okay,' he said. 'Stop – it's me – stop.'

She swallowed thickly and covered her eyes with her hands. 'Oh – Harry,' she said. 'I – sorry. Bad dream, I guess.'

'You're shaking.'

'I'm fine.'

'You are not,' he insisted. 'Tell me about your dream.'

She sighed. 'It was nothing,' she said.

'It was _something_. Look at you.'

'It isn't important,' she said dismissively. Then, quickly, she added: 'I was back in the Chamber. Same dream as always.'

Something unsettling twisted around inside his stomach at these words.

'About what happened to you in first year?' he asked.

She nodded. 'It was different, though. I mean, there's always more to it than what really happened. You save me and then –'

'And then Tom comes back, and you're chained to the floor, and he tries to kill me.'

Ginny glanced up at him, and the look on her face confirmed his thought. 'What? How did you know –?'

'I dreamt that, too,' he said. 'I woke up a second before you did.'

'Really?' she asked. 'I – I don't understand. How could we have the same nightmare?'

'Dunno,' he said.

They fell silent, and Harry allowed the dream to run through his mind again.

_This is insane_, he thought.

'What?' asked Ginny.

'What?' he said.

'I didn't catch what you said.'

He looked at her for a moment. 'I didn't say anything.'

'Yeah, you did. I heard you.'

'Gin, I didn't say a thing. Really, I promise.'

She frowned for a second. 'I must be hearing things,' she concluded.

_Great_. _She's going nutters on me_.

Ginny smacked his arm. 'I am _not _going nutters.'

'What?' said Harry.

'Oh, come _on_. Don't pretend like you didn't say that one, too. I heard you,' she said. 'You said that I'm going nutters on you. And I'm not!'

'I didn't say that,' Harry insisted. 'But … I thought it.'

……………………………………………………………


	31. The Aftermath

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**I can go on record saying that I don't read other HP fics. If this Harry/Ginny twist is like other stories, don't accuse me of borrowing ideas from someone else (which is just a nicer way of asking if I'm copying), because I don't. And don't be so quick to assume that this story will be like whatever everyone else is writing. **

**Chapter Thirty-One: The Aftermath****  
**……………………………………………………………

_Is this even possible_? thought Harry

'I didn't think it was!'

'Didn't think it was what?'

'Possible,' said Ginny. 'You just – oh! Did you think that, too?'

Harry nodded slowly.

'I – I can read your mind?' she asked quietly.

'You can't _read _a mind,' he said automatically. 'It's not like a book … it's a many-layered –'

He stopped, realizing he sounded like Snape.

Hermione shifted in the next bed and mumbled something.

'C'mon,' he told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of bed. 'Let's go to your room and talk about this. So they can't hear.'

They were halfway to the door when Ron's snores stopped. 'Where're you going?' he asked them.

'My room,' said Ginny. Harry winced. As if reading his mind (although, really, she probably _was_), Ginny continued: 'Oh, Ron, get over yourself. It's the middle of the day and more than half of our immediate family is scattered throughout the house. We'll leave the door open if it makes you feel any better, but we're going.'

Ron stared at them. 'I just asked, is all,' he said, rather easily, and then wrapped his arm tighter around Hermione.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

'Okay,' she said when they entered her room a moment later. Closing her bedroom door behind her, she looked at him and rolled her eyes again. '_No_,' she said, 'we are not doing _that_. We need to talk about this! If I really can hear your thoughts, and this is how you're always thinking, I'm going to be a right state in a few days.'

Harry felt himself blush, and took a moment to ponder just how awful this strange connection with Ginny could be if it really _was _a connection. She could hear EVERYTHING. Not just the good stuff, like when he thought about how much he loved her or how beautiful she was. Shite, this was going to get him into a whole load of trouble, wasn't it?

Ginny sat down on the bed next to him. 'Think of something,' she said.

He stared at her blankly. 'Like what?'

'I don't know. Anything.'

_I love Ginny Weasley_, he thought.

'Did you do it?' she asked. He nodded. 'I didn't get anything that time.'

Brilliant. The one time he thought something nice, something that would at least secure him a snog later, she couldn't hear anything.

'Really?' he asked. She nodded and closed her eyes in concentration.

_Come on_, _work_! _Why can't I hear him_?

'You just – I heard that!' Harry exclaimed. 'It was – it was like you were talking, but you weren't talking. And your voice was echoing, sort of. Whoa! That was cool.'

The word _idiot _echoed in his mind, in a voice that was not his own, and he rolled his eyes at her.

_I'm an idiot, but you're with me_, he thought.

_We can always change that one_, she teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

_Wait _– _stop it_. _We're talking in our heads and it's freaking me out_.

'We still haven't figured out why this is happening,' he said aloud.

'We could go to McGonagall, I guess. But I doubt she'd be able to help,' said Ginny. 'Probably the only person we could ask would be –'

'Hermione,' Harry said.

'Yeah,' she said. 'Maybe we should try to figure this out a bit before we go to Hermione, though. After all, we don't even know how long this'll last. It might just be something that happens to witches and wizards after the … y'know … first time.' Her cheeks coloured slightly.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. 'Yeah, well, don't you think your mum would've mentioned that to you before?'

Ginny, apparently, hadn't considered this. 'Oh,' she said. 'That's probably true.' She sighed. 'So … are we going to be in each other's heads all the time now? I don't think I want to know everything that crosses your mind in a day, Harry. And I don't want you knowing the same for me.'

Harry nodded. Oh, this could be _so _bad. It wasn't as if he kept secrets from her. Still, there were things that one liked to keep private. He was rather sure she felt the same way. He didn't think he wanted to know everything a girl thought about, anyway. Of course, it could help him out sometimes. He often found himself in a situation where he had no idea what to do, and Ginny expected him to be able to know _exactly _what she wanted from him.

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in his head. 'Hey!' he said. 'D'you think we could block each other out? By using Occlumency, or something?'

'It's worth a try,' Ginny said. 'This could be useful at times, but definitely not _all _the time. I can hardly keep track of my own thoughts. I don't need yours running around up here as well.'

He hadn't even thought about that. Sometimes, it was so loud in a room that he couldn't hear himself think. Could it get so loud in his _head _that he wouldn't be able to hear himself think? Ginny talked an awful lot. She probably thought a whole bunch, too.

'Let's try it then,' he said, now determined to learn how to turn this connection on and off. He sat down on the floor and she joined him, so they were sitting cross-legged and facing each other. 'Erm, how should we do this?'

'If we can figure this out on our own, we might not need Occlumency.' Ginny closed her eyes. 'Just start thinking about things, and I'm going to try and close you off from my mind.'

They sat there for nearly an hour, but still, neither of them were able to keep the other out. Finally unable to ignore the noises their stomachs were making, they took a break and headed to the kitchen for some lunch.

Ron and Hermione were present at the table, as were the rest of Ginny's brothers. It was an awkward thing, Harry soon realized, to enter a room holding a girl's hand and have her brothers staring at him, most likely thinking very threatening – possibly even murderous – thoughts indeed.

But still, there was something in the air that prevented negativity today. They took their seats across from Ron and Hermione without a word. As they ate, there was a thought that bounced back and forth between Harry and Ginny, and he couldn't decide which one of them had thought it.

_This is how it should be_.

……………………………………………………………

They tried again after lunch.

Harry began mentally rambling on and on various things, some of which made Ginny laugh, while others made her blush. When he was finally on the verge of exhausting every topic imaginable, Ginny spoke:

'Did you stop?' she asked hesitantly, as though trying to focus on what she was doing in her head rather than what her mouth was saying.

'No,' Harry said.

She opened her eyes. 'I – I think I must've blocked you out,' she said. 'For a while there, I could hear everything you said. I just kept focusing on closing you off and then you were gone. Almost like I flicked a switch and shut you up.'

She cursed.

'I can hear you again. It takes a lot of concentration, and talking sort of makes me concentrate a little less, I suppose.'

'Maybe it'll get easier once we get used to it,' Harry suggested hopefully. He closed his eyes. 'Okay, my turn.'

Ginny's voice filled his head, and he tried his best to block out the incessant thoughts of a sixteen-year-old girl who fancied her gossip. She thought about what Colin had once told her about Romilda Vane, and how Neville and Luna both admitted to fancying the other but swore her to secrecy, and she sincerely doubted that either one of them would ever get round to telling the other one on their own. Rumours and juicy little semi-truths about Lavender and Parvati and Seamus were swimming around in his mind. For a short moment, he actually stopped concentrated and allowed himself to be amused by some of the things she was reflecting on. Then she got on the subject of Dean, and that was territory Harry did _not _fancy re-visiting.

He re-focused his attention on pushing her out of his head and clearing his mind, and suddenly her voice was gone. Still, it felt as though there was a small probing at the back of his head, almost as if something was trying to force itself back into his mind and gain access to all its contents.

'It worked,' he said. Almost as soon as he said it, though, he felt something give in his mind, and Ginny's thoughts were once again intertwined with his own. 'Oh. Never mind.'

'That happened to me, too,' said Ginny. 'Maybe there isn't a way to do this. Maybe we're just going to have to deal with this.'

Harry shook his head. 'No, we can do this,' he said. 'We'll figure out a way. It'll just take some practice.'

They practiced without interruption for another few hours, but still did not make much progress. Harry found that he was starting to figure out how to close his mind to her – it was almost as though he brought up a shield or wall of some sort, and it blocked her attempts to get into his head. Still, though, the invisible wall would eventually crumble, granting her access. The same was true for Ginny. And when Harry _did _manage to keep the wall up for a decent amount of time, he felt that unfamiliar sensation of something jabbing him in the back of his mind, and the wall gave in under the strange sort of pressure of Ginny unconsciously trying to get back into his head.

'Let's both try it at the same time,' he suggested, just wanting to see if that strange poking would stop.

It did. And with their combined efforts, they were both able to keep their individual walls up for several minutes. Until, of course, they fell again.

Just as Harry was about to suggest that they give up and try again after they'd gotten some sleep, there was a knock on Ginny's door. Charlie came in, greeting Harry with an odd look, as though he couldn't decide between being uncomfortable that Harry was with Ginny and being glad that it was Harry and not someone else.

'Harry,' Charlie said. 'Mum sent me up here to let you know that you have training soon.'

Harry glanced at the clock and sighed. He and Ginny had been at this mind thing for nearly two and a half hours. Now, he needed to go train with Tonks – something he was already _not _looking forward to as it was, but it seemed especially unappealing today, as he was running on virtually no sleep.

'Thanks,' he said. He was only vaguely aware of the strange look Charlie gave them as they got up off the floor. He said goodbye to Ginny and then left to go find Ron.

He was rather surprised to find Ron sitting in the kitchen with Hermione and his mum, dressed and completely ready to go. Mrs Weasley looked uneasy about the idea of letting Ron out of her sights so soon, but must've known that Hogwarts was the safest place other than The Burrow or Headquarters for him to be.

'About time,' said Ron, rising from his chair. 'I talked to Tonks already, and she said she'd let me train with you today. Hurry up. Let's go!'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Y'know, if you're going to be this enthusiastic, _I'm_ not going to let you train with us today.'

Ron grinned and clapped him on the back. 'Ah, c'mon, this is going to be great!'

……………………………………………………………

'This is bloody terrible!' panted Ron. He'd never done this much running in his entire life. Honestly, the Quidditch Pitch was for flying, not for running laps. 'How – how aren't you tired?'

Harry was running beside him, hardly breaking a sweat. 'Gotta do it. No time to be tired,' he said, and picked up the pace a bit.

'Talking is only wasting your breath!' called Tonks. 'Pick up the pace, Ron! There's only one more lap to go.'

Ron growled but pushed forward. His legs burned and his chest ached, but he didn't stop until Harry did. Then, he doubled over and failed in several attempts to catch his breath. 'Is – it – always – this – bad?' he asked.

'You get used to it,' Harry said. He seemed to be a little out of breath, at least. He reached up and wiped the sweat off his forehead. 'The running actually helps clear your head … it's the rest of the stuff that isn't so nice.'

Ron groaned at the thought of what the "rest of the stuff" could be.

Harry and Tonks had been training for weeks now, and had built up a rigorous workout program. Ron knew that this program was for Harry's sake, not his, and so he also knew that Tonks wouldn't take today's training down a notch just to accommodate Ron.

'Good warm-up,' said Tonks, coming over to them.

_Warm-up_? Ron nearly fainted at her words. That had been the workout of a lifetime! There couldn't be too much more, could there? He'd expected this training business to be challenging, but it was supposed to be a _good _sort of challenge!

Why did he ever want to accompany Harry on these stupid training sessions? He wasn't cut out for this. He was just the sidekick, the one who stood behind Harry and did a whole lot of nothing. He should just quit now, while he had a little bit of his pride remaining.

'I was in worse shape than you after my first run,' Harry said, and Ron thought that maybe he was just trying to be nice, but it made him feel better nonetheless. 'You'll get used to all this pretty quickly.'

'You think so?'

'You better,' Harry said with a grin. 'We have another session with Tonks tomorrow.'

Ron groaned.

'Come on,' said Tonks. 'We've got plenty to do and only a small amount of time to get it all done.' She paused for a moment and looked at them pensively. 'And keep your wands handy. You're going to fight each other later.'

Ron and Harry looked at each other in surprise. Their wide eyes and slack jaws quickly disappeared, replaced by two identical grins.

'Brilliant,' said Ron.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny's eyes were closed and she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, looking as though she was concentrating very hard on something. She looked up when Hermione came into the bedroom.

'Did Ron go with Harry?' Ginny asked.

'Yeah,' Hermione said. 'He was so excited about it.'

Hermione smiled at the memory. Ron had been incredibly excited before leaving. All he'd talked about while waiting for Harry to come down into the kitchen was how he couldn't wait to get started.

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'That'll probably change pretty quickly.'

'Oh, I'm sure it will,' Hermione agreed.

While the idea of training with Tonks, an Auror, was something exciting for Ron, the work would probably be very tough. Harry came home rather tired every night (he rose very early in the morning, and mental training was no easy thing), but Tuesdays and Wednesdays, when he was with Tonks, were the nights he was most exhausted.

'So,' Ginny said, leaning forward and lowering her voice. 'What happened last night when you and Ron were in his room?'

'Nothing,' said Hermione.

'Oh, come on! This is me. I won't tell anyone,' said Ginny.

'I know that,' said Hermione. She could feel herself blushing. 'But I'm telling the truth. We mostly talked.'

'Mostly?' Ginny asked.

Seeing that there was no way around having this sort of conversation with Ginny, Hermione sighed and sat down on her own bed.

'Well,' she said, slightly uncomfortably. 'We kissed a bit, I suppose.'

Ginny grinned. 'You sure that's all?'

'Of course I'm sure!' Hermione said, her voice coming out slightly scandalized. 'Ron just got home and I still don't even know where we stand and … well, wouldn't that make me a bit of a … slag?'

Ginny's eyes narrowed. 'A slag?' she cried. 'Hermione, you couldn't be a slag if you _tried_. And it doesn't matter if he just got home. This sounds incredibly sappy, but if you love each other, that's all that really matters.'

'I guess,' said Hermione. 'I don't even know what to do, though. I've never … the most I've ever done is … and Ron probably did some things with Lavender …'

'The only time Ron was ever with Lavender was in the Common Room,' said Ginny. 'I think someone would've noticed.'

Hermione wanted to believe what her friend was saying, but it was difficult. Especially since she distinctly remembered the night when they'd first gotten together and Harry had found her in an empty classroom. Ron and Lavender had stumbled in, clearly looking for a private place to do … _whatever_.

The part that bothered her most wasn't that Ron may have done certain things with someone other than herself (although that did bother her somewhat), but that Ron would have done them purely out of spite, and not because he had any feelings for Lavender at all.

If Ron had told the truth earlier when he spoke about his non-relationship with Lavender, he hadn't even fancied her. And wouldn't that mean he just used her?

Unless he really had fancied Lavender. But wouldn't that mean he'd lied straight to Hermione's face?

She hated this. Romance and love and _boys _were so difficult to wrap her head around and they were never a sure thing. If she could pull out a book and look all this up, she would. But really, even books couldn't help her with this. Why wasn't there a manual on relationships?

She knew that Ron loved her. And she knew that he'd tell her the truth if she asked him about Lavender. But that was the scary part. Did she want to know? What if she thought she was ready to hear the truth, but she really wasn't?

As for not having any experience with boys, she knew that she could ask Ginny for help and advice. Of course, it might be more than a little awkward, considering Ron was Ginny's brother. And Harry was the closest thing to a brother Hermione had. She didn't want any unpleasant images in her mind, nor did she think Ginny would.

'What if I do something wrong?' asked Hermione. She couldn't believe she was participating in this sort of conversation, let alone initiating it. 'I mean, I have no idea how to –'

Ginny laughed. 'Oh! We're _girls_. We've got it easy!' she said. 'Boys are pretty simple. Just … um, well … you can pretty much do anything. It's easy to tell if they like it or not.'

Hermione sincerely hoped that this was true, because this was probably the only thing she'd never read about in a book, and therefore was rather clueless about the whole thing.

'Trust me,' continued Ginny. 'My brother will just be glad to advance past snogging. It won't matter what you do.'

'So you and Harry have … advanced past snogging, then?'

'Shut the door,' Ginny said after a moment. 'It's about time we had some serious girl talk.'

……………………………………………………………

'That was good,' Tonks said, smiling at them both. 'But next time, stop when I tell you to.'

Harry stood up and limped toward Ron. 'Reckon we got a little carried away.'

'Yeah,' said Ron. He winced when he moved his shoulder but grinned. 'Let's, er, not tell the girls about this.'

'Course not,' Harry agreed. He couldn't hear Ginny is his head, and so he figured she must've figured out how to block him out.

'Ginny'd kill me if she knew what I did to you.'

'What _you _did to _me_?' said Harry. 'Mate, I must've thrown you at least ten feet that one time.'

Ron rolled his eyes. 'Yeah, right after I knocked you on your arse for the third time in a row.'

'In your dreams!'

'All right,' said Tonks. 'That's enough for today. I'll see you both tomorrow at half past eleven right here. Ron, be prepared to run laps again.'

Ron groaned. 'That's so early,' he said.

'You complaining, Weasley?'

'No,' Ron said instantly. 'Of course not. Half past eleven. I can't wait. See you then.'

Tonks nodded a goodbye and turned to walk into the castle. Harry rolled his eyes. 'Y'know, half past eleven isn't that bad. Try starting at six.'

'_Six_?' said Ron. 'No thanks.'

Harry smiled as he and Ron began to walk up to the castle, several paces behind Tonks.

'Er, Harry?' Ron said after a moment.

'Yeah?'

'I've been thinking,' said Ron. 'And, well, d'you think that maybe we should still go to Godric's Hollow?'

Harry found that his legs were suddenly incapable of movement. Ron stopped as well, looking at him with a curious expression.

Godric's Hollow? Merlin, he'd nearly forgotten all about that. He'd been so caught up with training and Ginny and Ron's return that the thought of taking off in the middle of the night with Ron and Hermione, leaving behind nothing but a short and rather vague letter, hadn't ever crossed his mind.

'D'you think that's smart?' asked Harry. 'I mean, your mum would have kittens if you tried to take off now. You only _just _got back.'

Ron looked guiltily down at his shoes. 'I – I know that,' he said, the tips of his ears turning red. 'But the sooner we set off, the sooner we can get back. It's not like we're doing this on a whim. The Horcruxes can't be ignored.'

'I know,' Harry said. He hesitated. 'But …'

'But what?'

Harry sighed. 'Nothing.'

In truth, he was beginning to wonder if he would be strong enough to pick up and leave everything. He knew that training was important, but he also recognized that all the training in the world wouldn't do him any good if there were still Horcruxes out there when he fought Voldemort. Ron was right, of course – the Horcruxes weren't something that could be ignored.

But could he just leave everything and … everyone?

Oh, hell, he might as well be honest with himself: He didn't think he'd be able to leave Ginny.

He thought Ginny was the only one who could read his mind, but apparently he was wrong:

'You don't want to leave my sister,' Ron said accusingly.

Something about the tone of his voice rubbed Harry the wrong way. 'What? No,' said Harry. 'I mean, _yes_. I just – I'm only – well, it's bloody easy for you to say, isn't it? Hermione would be coming with us. No problem for you.'

He sighed. Fighting with Ron wasn't something he wanted to do today, or any other day, for that matter.

'Ginny … she'd put up a nice fight to keep us at The Burrow, but it's not her decision to make. I – I haven't completely lost my head. Of course I'd leave. We still need to talk to Hermione, though,' he added. 'If we all decide that it's best, then … then that's that. And your sister will hate me, but that's just something that I'll have to deal with, I guess, yeah?'

Ron shifted uncomfortably. 'She won't hate you,' he said. 'She'll just be confused. And angry as all hell. We won't be able to tell her where we're going, and she'll be crazy worrying about us, but we'll make it back all right. I'm sure we will.'

Harry nodded. He vowed that he'd become a master on blocking Ginny out of his mind before the time came for him to leave with Ron and Hermione. There was no doubt that Ginny would follow him if she could, even if she knew how dangerous it would be. That was Ginny.

'I'm sure we will, too,' said Harry. 'C'mon. I'm exhausted. Let's get home.'

They started back to the castle and Ron laughed. 'You've sure got your hands full with that girl. Her middle name isn't Molly for nothing, y'know. She's exactly like Mum when she wants to be – bossy and stubborn and controlling in ways you wouldn't believe.'

Harry grinned. 'Ah, she's not so bad.'

……………………………………………………………


	32. Unforgivables

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Check out my new one-shots, _Deuteragonist _and _Stranger_.**

**Chapter Thirty-Two: Unforgivables  
**……………………………………………………………

The next few days following Ron's return were rather similar to the week following his "death" – Harry was having trouble keeping track of time and events. Everything sort of joined and blurred together, and Harry was beginning to feel as if a thick mist had settled overtop of the Weasley home.

One thing was for sure – Harry had never eaten food as delicious as the meals Mrs Weasley was cooking for them every night. Each was a feast to rival those at Hogwarts.

And if Harry had thought that they'd received an awful lot of letters when news broke about Ron's passing, it was _nothing _compared to the heaps that poured in when news broke that Ron was still very much alive. Unlike last time, they all sat down and took the time to respond to each and every letter personally.

All of the Weasleys gravitated back to The Burrow. Harry loved waking up late (as McGonagall had given him a few days off wandless magic training, and he was able to sleep in) and trudging down the stairs to the kitchen, only to find all six Weasley sons wrestling over a single flatcake. Mr Weasley would be doing his best to quiet them all down.

'I had it first!'

'You did _not_,' said Bill. 'I did!'

'– _Boys, does it really matter_?–'

'You're both liars! I was up first; I should get the last one.'

'You were up first?' asked Charlie. 'Rubbish! George, I was up at least an hour before you!'

'D'you really think anyone cares what time you were up?' asked Ron. 'I came back from the bloody _dead_. I think I deserve that flatcake.'

'– _You'd better not let your mother hear you talking like that _–'

Percy rolled his eyes, but smiled. 'You did not "come back from the dead", you merely –'

'Shut the hell up,' said Ron. 'I came back from the dead!'

'Mum!'

'Telling Mum on me now, are you?'

'Good job, Weatherby.'

'Don't call me that!'

'– _Really, how old are you lot_? –'

'Fred, stop it.'

'Thank you, Bill,' said Percy.

'No problem, Weatherby.'

'BILL!'

'Haven't clued in that there's a whole other stack right here?' Harry asked Ginny, sitting down in the vacant seat beside her.

'Do they ever?' asked Hermione from across the table, beside Ron. Harry grinned and reached for a flatcake.

'Morning,' said Ginny.

'Morning,' said Harry, leaning in for a nice, lingering kiss.

The bickering immediately stopped. When Harry pulled away, he found ten murderous eyes (and Ron's two scandalized ones) fixated on him. Just as he had once written "_I will not tell lies_," he envisioned himself writing "_I will not snog my girlfriend while her six older brothers look on_."

There was a long, awkward moment where Harry said nothing and their looks said everything.

Suddenly, Mr Weasley made quite the production of stabbing the flatcake with his fork. 'Got it,' he said triumphantly.

As quickly as Harry and Ginny caught the attention, they lost it again.

'Give me that!' cried Fred.

'Don't listen to him, Dad!' said George. 'Give it to _me_!'

The rest of the Weasley boys joined in, and soon Harry and Ginny were completely forgotten. But if Harry wasn't mistaken, he could've sworn he saw Mr Weasley wink at him.

……………………………………………………………

'It just isn't smart,' said Hermione. 'Not now.'

'I agree,' said Harry. 'Your parents would lose it, Ron. And Ginny.'

'I can handle Ginny,' said Ron confidently.

'Don't kid yourself. Even _I _can't handle Ginny.'

Hermione nodded at Harry's words, but Ron still wasn't convinced. He stood, bringing himself to his full height, looking rather intimidating indeed.

'Look,' he said. 'I thought we'd agreed that –'

'We did,' said Harry. 'But a lot has changed since then. We can't just up-and-leave right now.'

'Harry's right,' said Hermione. 'Besides, he has other things going on now, things that require him to be here everyday. We all do.'

'Dumbledore wants us to keep training,' Harry piped up.

'We can train whether we're here or not,' Ron argued.

'How d'you figure?' asked Harry. 'Maybe you can run laps and do all that other rubbish on your own, but I can't do my wandless magic without McGonagall. Not very well, at least.'

'I …' Ron sighed. 'All right, maybe leaving now wouldn't be the smartest thing, or the easiest. But … we've got to do something other than what we're doing right now.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'Which is?'

'_Nothing_,' said Ron exasperatedly. 'We need to take action.'

'How?'

'Join the Order, I guess,' Ron said. 'It's about all we can do from here. We're all of age, and –'

'I was kicked out,' Harry reminded him.

'You were invited back, weren't you?'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Okay, I guess that we could do that.'

'For now.'

'Why are you so anxious to leave again?' Hermione snapped.

'I've been out of the game long enough!' Ron cried

'This isn't a game!' Harry said.

'I know that,' Ron said. 'It's dangerous, and Mum would kill us if she knew what we're planning. But isn't it better to be out there risking our lives for a good cause than to be sitting round here and watching the death toll rise?' Ron ran a hand through his hair. 'Voldemort isn't taking a break just because I've gotten back home. Why should we?'

Harry rested his head in his hands for several moments. Ron had an excellent point. But he'd spoken to Dumbledore on several separate occasions now, and the old Headmaster had remained constant on one thing: train and work with the Order. Did Dumbledore know something Harry didn't? Could he read Harry's mind and knew what the trio was planning? Or was he merely repeating it because it was, logically, a very critical part of defeating Voldemort?

'We said we would follow you wherever you went,' Hermione said, looking at Harry. 'We meant that.'

Ron nodded. Finally, it seemed as though they agreed on something.

'You're the one who has to defeat Voldemort,' she continued. 'But you'll need us if you're ever going to get that far.'

'Of course,' Harry said instantly. 'I'd be nothing without you two. You've both saved my arse more times than I can count. You know that. I need you two – as much as I wish I could leave you both out of all this.'

'Good luck with that,' Ron said.

'It's crossed my mind more than once,' Harry admitted. 'Just leaving. Not telling you. Not involving anyone other than me and Voldemort.'

'Not bloody likely!'

Hermione said something, but it was the same moment as when Ginny lowered her wall and tried to talk to him. He felt that strange and foreign (yet, by now, somewhat familiar) sensation of her probing the back of his mind, seeking entrance. He tried his best to ignore her, knowing that he'd be in for it if he lowered his wall now and allowed her to know what he was discussing with Ron and Hermione.

He and Ginny had been practicing and experimenting with their new "connection" every chance they'd gotten since discovering it. Harry was actually very pleased with how easy it was becoming to open and close his mind to her, and vice versa.

All this practice was also helping his Occlumency skills. Kingsley had even commended him on his significant improvement in the last week. Of course, he still had to work at it, especially since he had to concentrate extremely hard on keeping his wall up at all times, even though Kingsley was poking around in his head. Ginny knew to never let her wall down on the afternoons Harry worked with Kingsley.

They still weren't sure how this "connection" had come about. Ginny believed that it was a direct result of them making love, but Harry wasn't so sure. Either way, it was the only explanation either of them could think of. And it limited the amount of people they could tell and consult on the situation. Any member of Ginny's family was out. Harry was considering asking Lupin's opinion, but he couldn't be sure if Lupin would agree to keep it between them. Harry and Ginny both agreed that they shouldn't tell the Order just yet. There was always Hermione, of course, but there was a chance that the news would get back to Ron, and that was no good at all.

'Harry?'

Realizing that he'd become lost in his own thoughts, Harry shook his head to clear it and looked up at his friends. 'Yeah?'

'What d'you think we should do?' asked Ron.

'If you want to stay, we'll stay. And if you think we should go, then we'll go.' Hermione pushed a strand of bushy brown hair behind her ear and looked at him expectantly.

Why was it _his _decision?

_Because they trust you, you dolt. They trust you with their bloody lives, and you can't take that lightly. Look at what happened to Ron already, because of your carelessness._

'I think we should stay,' Harry said after a long moment. 'For now, at least. Until we can figure out where we'll go when we leave. We can't just go set up camp in Godric's Hollow and expect the Horcruxes to come to us. They're probably scattered all over the world.'

'We can join the Order and see how they go about the search,' said Hermione. 'Then we can go on their leads.'

'Exactly,' Harry said. He looked at Ron. 'That sound good?'

Ron nodded. 'It's not like I _want _to leave, or anything. But the sooner we get to it, the sooner this'll all be over, yeah?'

Harry nodded. 'We'll play this by ear and see what happens. And remember – we can't tell anyone.'

'Especially Ginny,' said Ron. 'You were right before. She'd lose it. If she found out about this beforehand … well, she's not above going to Mum if it'll keep you from leaving, Harry.'

Harry sincerely hoped that they wouldn't decide to leave for some time, so he could have time to come up with an appropriate way to tell Ginny that he would be leaving (and that _no_, she couldn't come, and _no_, she couldn't know where he was going, and _no_, he might not be coming back).

Something told him she wouldn't be horribly pleased.

A voice rang out from behind him that was unmistakably Ginny's. '_Leaving_?'

The look that crossed Hermione's face told him all he needed to know about what he'd find when he turned around. Ginny was likely to kill him. He closed his eyes momentarily before standing up and turning to face his seething girlfriend.

'Er,' he said. 'Hey, Gin.'

'Don't you "_Hey, Gin_" me,' she said severely. 'Where are you going?'

'G-going?' Harry stammered. 'We're not going anywhere.'

'Oh, so it's all three of you, then?' she demanded.

Harry exchanged looks with Ron and Hermione. There wasn't a way out of this, was there?

Why didn't he just lower his wall when she'd tried to talk to him? She never would've come looking for him, and she never would've walked in on a conversation she wasn't meant to hear.

'Don't just stand there,' Ginny said, folding her arms across her chest.

'What d'you want us to say?' Ron asked.

'Tell me the _truth_!' she cried.

Hermione began, 'Ginny –'

'No,' Ginny said, sounding somewhat hysterical. 'The three of you have always left me out of things, and I've never complained _once_. I'm not allowed to join the Order and I'm not allowed to go out looking for the Horcruxes with you, and that's fine, but you are _not _leaving me behind now to go – _wherever_. You just – you can't. You _can't_.'

She looked between them frantically before settling her eyes back on Harry.

'Tell me.'

'I can't,' he said.

'I'm tired of being left out just because I'm too young and –'

'This has nothing to do with your bloody age!' Harry yelled. 'It's a matter of security. _Your _security! Sorry, Ginny, but I like you _alive_. You can't know.'

'Tell me right now, or else.'

'Or else what?' Harry asked stubbornly.

'Or else … something really bad is going to happen. Something so bad that I can't even think of it right now,' she told him lamely.

'Whatever,' he said.

'Quit treating me like a baby!'

'Then stop acting like one!' Harry yelled. He'd expected her to be upset – sad, afraid, and perhaps even a little angry – but she was just being ridiculous now. And annoying. Ginny hadn't annoyed him like this since he was twelve. 'Maybe, when you quit acting like such a stupid brat and realize that you don't always get your way, we'll tell you!'

'You are such a bastard,' she said evenly, even though she recoiled at his comment. 'And I am _not _a brat.'

'Yeah, you are sometimes,' he said. 'And when you're like that …' He caught himself before he said something awful.

'What? When I'm like that – what?'

'Nothing,' he said finally. 'It was nothing.'

'So what? You're just going to walk out on me? All three of you?' she said. Harry looked at his feet. 'Well, fine. But don't you dare think I'll be here when you get back, Harry. I'm _done _with this.'

He bit his lip hard, forcing himself to not give into the look she was giving him. She looked on the verge of tears, and all he wanted to do was apologize and wrap his arms around her and tell her everything, just so she'd stop looking at him like that.

Now looking slightly humiliated, she squared her shoulders and turned to leave.

'Where are you going?' he asked suddenly, his voice cracking. She couldn't leave. She had to stay, so they could fix what they'd just said to each other. Where was she going?

'I can't tell you – for security purposes,' she said childishly, and then she was gone.

Harry put a hand over his eyes. 'What did I just do?' he asked to nobody in particular.

'What you had to,' Ron said. 'She didn't give you a choice.'

'Go find her and – and talk to her!' said Hermione.

Harry looked up at his best friends. 'Now?'

'Yeah,' Ron urged. 'Best to get it over with. If you wait, it'll just give her more time to think about it. And she'll just get angrier and angrier until …' He winced. 'If you have to, tell her the truth.'

'I can't do that!'

'Yeah, you can,' Ron urged. 'Just because she'll want to come doesn't mean she gets to. You were right before. One day, she's going to have to learn to stop being such a kid. Maybe when she does, we won't have to treat her like one.'

'But we just agreed that we couldn't tell anyone else,' Harry said slowly. 'I thought –'

'That was before you both started acting like utter fools,' Hermione lectured him. 'Unless you can think of a plausible lie, you need to go tell her as much as you need to. Let her think she's involved … that she's allowed to come with us.'

Harry sighed. He and Ginny had done quite a number on themselves just now. Maybe, if he listened to Ron and Hermione, there was a way out of this mess.

'Okay,' he said. 'But later, when she finds out she isn't actually coming and this all blows up in my face, I want you both to remember that this wasn't my idea.'

……………………………………………………………

She deserved better than him.

She deserved someone who appreciated her and – and _trusted _her.

Someone who wouldn't up-and-leave without a second thought.

Oh, who was she _kidding_? She had made a complete idiot out of herself just now.

But how was she supposed to react to finding out that her boyfriend, one of her best friends, and her brother (who just got back from the DEAD) were planning on leaving. And worst of all, they weren't planning on telling her. She never would've seen it coming if she hadn't walked in on their conversation.

She had every right to be angry.

Still, even with the foggy glasses of anger through which she currently viewed the world, she knew that she had no right to say some of the things she'd said.

It was easy to see where Harry was coming from if she threw out her own feelings. However, doing that was a lot harder than it sounded. She was hysterical – she couldn't be logical as well.

Harry had drawn his line in the sand. She'd given him a choice – tell her the truth or it was (basically) _over_ – and he hadn't picked her. There was no mistaking that. Was there?

But she _had _been a bit of a brat …

'Gin?'

She looked up from her bed and saw him standing in her doorway. Concern was etched in his face and he stepped in hesitantly, as if she was going to whip out her wand and hex him at any moment. And maybe she would, if her wand wasn't all the way across the room.

She sniffed. Her eyes were probably red and puffy, and she hated that he was going to see her like this and know that he'd won. 'What?' she asked, and even though the remorse was setting in, she was still very incensed.

'I – I came to talk,' he said. He took a deep breath. She knew that it wasn't easy for anybody, especially two people as stubborn as she and Harry, to apologize. 'About – before. If you want me to tell you, I will.'

He was so sweet, her Harry. Always trying to be everything to everybody. Wanting to keep her at his side, and yet wanting to distance himself from her as much as he could.

She loved him so much, but she hated that. And maybe, right now, she hated _him_. Just a little bit.

'Don't,' she said suddenly, her voice hardening. She could tell him that she was sorry and that she was wrong, regardless of how she felt right now, but that was hard. It was easier to be angry. She stood from her bed. 'Obviously, you don't think I deserve to know.'

'I never said that! I just –'

'You know, I thought that this whole "reading each others' minds" thing would – would make us _closer_. And it turns out you've been keeping secrets from me!'

'Like you don't keep secrets from me?'

He had her there. She kept plenty of secrets. But there was only one or two that he'd actually find important. Still, none of those secrets were as serious as this one. _She _wasn't planning on disappearing without a trace. Without even telling him.

'This one is _different_!' she yelled.

Harry stepped into the room and Silenced it. She wished he hadn't, so everyone in the house would be able to hear their argument. Maybe if her mum heard it, she wouldn't need to worry about Harry leaving. Her mum would probably put him in a cage and shackle him to the iron bars, only letting him out for meals and washroom breaks. Her problems would be solved.

'You're _leaving_! You won't even tell me where you're going!'

'Because it's too dangerous!'

They weren't going to get anywhere like this. She decided to change her tactics.

'How long have you known?' she demanded.

Harry looked torn, almost as if he was considering _lying _to her. That would be incredibly stupid, of course, because she'd be able to tell. She could always tell.

Apparently, though, she couldn't. Or she would've realized earlier that he was keeping something from her. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have missed it? She was _in his head_ and she couldn't even tell that something was up.

'How long?' she repeated. When he said nothing, she asked, 'Since the wedding?'

'Er,' he said. 'Actually …'

'Since before then?'

'We were – we were planning on leaving after the wedding. Right after. And –'

'And if it hadn't been for me getting captured,' she said slowly, 'you would have.'

Was that why he'd broken up with her at the wedding?

She felt like she was dreaming. She had to be. And she would wake up soon and he'd be lying there beside her and everything would make sense. Maybe she'd even laugh a little at how silly her mind could be sometimes.

'Yeah,' he said finally. 'Probably.'

He took a step toward her and she backed up. She was being miserable and she knew it, but she couldn't seem to get her brain and heart to agree on anything.

She would die without him. But it turned out he'd have no problem being away from her. Hell, he was actually planning on getting away from her. Was he looking forward to it? Was it his idea to leave?

It would be easier to make sense of everything if she knew why he was leaving, what he was going to do. But he "wasn't allowed" to tell her. It "wasn't safe".

She hated the tears that fell from her eyes and the sob that escaped her lips. She turned away from him, and a moment later she felt his arms encircle her.

'We're joining the Order again,' he whispered. 'And when they get a lead on a Horcrux, we're going to leave and go look for it on our own. And then we're coming back until they think they've found the next one. Then we'll do the same thing over again, and again, and again, until they're all gone.'

She closed her eyes. 'So – so you're not _really _leaving,' she said slowly, desperately wanting to cling to something that allowed them both to end this stupid argument. She felt sure that there was more to it than this, but she really didn't feel like arguing right now.

'I guess not,' he said, clearly picking up on what she was trying to do. 'No. No. I'm not leaving at all, if you think about it.'

She turned around in his arms and smiled. 'Oh. Okay, then.'

……………………………………………………………

Harry fell back against the bed.

'Wow,' he panted.

'Mm,' Ginny agreed.

He rolled onto his side and looked at her. Her hair was a shock of red and covering most of her face. He reached out and brushed it out of the way before kissing her.

'I have to go,' he said finally.

'No.'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'Ron and Hermione are coming to early training tomorrow and they'll probably come up to Bill's room in the morning to make sure I'm up,' Harry explained. 'If I'm not in that bed … I don't even want to think about what Ron would do.'

'I don't care,' said Ginny stubbornly.

'I do,' Harry said.

……………………………………………………………

The trio's footsteps echoed through the castle as they entered the Great Hall.

'You're early,' McGonagall said. She turned around and stood straighter. 'Oh. Miss Granger. Mr Weasley. What brings you two here so early?'

'Professor,' Harry said. 'We've come to talk to you about the Order.'

'We want in,' Ron said.

'If that's okay with you,' Hermione added, nudging Ron in the ribs.

McGonagall folded her arms across her front and peered through her spectacles at them. 'Have you discussed this with your parents, Miss Granger?' she asked.

'I – well – I will,' she said. 'But it won't matter, will it? I'll be eighteen tomorrow.'

'Still,' McGonagall said.

'Yes,' Hermione said. 'I'll talk to them about it.'

'Very well,' said McGonagall. She smiled warmly. 'I can think of no finer additions to the Order than you three.'

'Thank you, Professor,' they said.

……………………………………………………………

'We need to get to Headquarters!'

Ron's head whipped up when his dad's words echoed through the house.

'Let's stay here,' he whispered in Hermione's ear.

It wasn't as though he hadn't been looking forward to being included in actual Order business. But there were _so many _people in his house, and the opportunity to be completely alone with her, even for just ten minutes, was too good to pass up.

'No!' She pushed him off of her and sat up. 'We made a commitment when we joined the Order. It hasn't even been a full day, and already you're getting lazy?'

Ron groaned. 'Fine. Let's go.'

The pair got to their feet and left his bedroom. On the way down the stairs, they nearly bumped into Harry and Ginny, who were coming out of Ginny's room. Why was Harry in his sister's room at this time of night? He was about to voice his question, but then he remembered that Hermione had been in his room, and he would be a hypocrite if he said anything to either of them.

There was an awkward moment where they all stood still and looked at one another.

'You, uh, missed a few buttons,' Ron told his sister, and then continued down the stairs without waiting for her response.

'What is it, Mr Weasley?' Harry asked when they entered the kitchen.

His father said nothing, but merely ushered them toward the fireplace. When they were all at Headquarters, Tonks spoke. 'We've received a tip that there is going to be a Death Eater attack in Brixton. A Muggle family – parents, two small children.'

'Who tipped us off?' Harry asked.

'It's not important,' Kingsley said, coming up behind them. 'Tonks will brief you while we get the Portkeys ready. Once we're all set, grab a Portkey and go.'

'Miss Granger,' McGonagall said. 'Have you spoken to your parents since we spoke this morning?'

Hermione's shoulders slumped. 'No, I haven't.'

'Then I am afraid you cannot accompany your friends tonight.'

A part of Ron jumped for joy at the thought of Hermione staying behind, safe and sound at Grimmauld Place. But a more realistic part of him realized that they would probably need all the help they could get if they were going to take on a band of Death Eaters tonight.

'Professor,' Harry said. 'It's twenty minutes to midnight.'

Hermione looked at the clock. 'That's right,' she said. 'And by the time we're ready to go, it'll be past midnight, and I'll be eighteen.'

McGonagall looked back and forth between Ron, Harry and Hermione for several moments before nodding. 'Very well.'

'Follow me.' Tonks said.

……………………………………………………………

'I hate that I can't come,' Ginny said, lacing her fingers in his hair.

'I don't,' Harry said honestly.

'Be careful.'

'Ah, but that's no fun,' he teased. She tightened her grip on his hair and he winced. 'Okay! I promise I'll be careful. Be here when I get back?'

She smiled. 'Always.'

'Oi, lovebirds!' Fred called. Harry and Ginny looked over at him and scowled. 'It's time to go.'

……………………………………………………………

'Can't see a bloody thing,' Ron muttered.

Well, at least it wasn't only Hermione, then. She blinked against the darkness and tried to guide herself by listening to the sounds made by everyone around her.

'What do we do now?' Hermione whispered. She'd paid attention during the briefing, but in her mind, she'd been imagining that the attack was in full-swing. It seemed that nobody was there yet.

'We wait,' came Tonks' reply.

This seemed a little – no, _very_ – idiotic. If the attack hadn't happened yet, couldn't they prevent it? Wasn't that what the order was all about – saving and helping others?

'But …' said Hermione. 'We can act now and save the family.'

'That isn't what we're here for,' Tonks told her. 'Our job is to round up the Death Eaters.'

'But that isn't right,' she protested.

'That isn't for you to decide, Hermione,' Tonks hissed. 'Quiet down and keep in position.'

But Hermione couldn't quiet down – not now. 'We're just supposed to wait for the Death Eaters to come and attack? _Then_ we go save the family?'

'Yes,' said Harry.

'What're you going on about?' asked Ron.

'If the Death Eaters show up and see that the family had been evacuated, they'll know something is up and they'll split before we get the chance to catch them.'

It made sense, of course. Pretty much everything made sense to Hermione. And if this family was a wizarding family, she would sit back and let Tonks and the others do whatever they thought would work. This family was Muggle, though. They were totally defenseless. Two small children! How could Ron and Harry go along with this?

'If we don't do this right the first time,' Lupin explained, 'they'll get away and they'll go on to do this to even more Muggle families. You don't want that, do you?'

'No,' she said grudgingly. 'I –'

'Shh!'

Everyone immediately fell silent and looked on as several small lights appeared in the distance. The Death Eaters had lit their wands.

'Don't move.'

Ron's hand gripped Hermione left arm, and Harry's hand gripped her right arm. They were making sure she wasn't going anywhere until they got the signal.

Hermione closed her eyes. She'd known that becoming an active member of the Order meant she'd see some awful things, but she'd always figured the awful things would be done by the other team. She couldn't believe this was really going on. What if these children died because nobody would listen to her and take action sooner?

A scream.

'Let's move.'

Hermione felt Ron and Harry let go of her and suddenly everyone was running forward, leaving her standing alone like an idiot.

'_Stupefy_!'

'_Protego_!'

'_Expelliarmus_!'

'_Stupefy_!'

'_Impedimenta_!'

Everyone around her was fighting and she – well, _she_ couldn't remember a single spell. Not one. Why was this happening to her? She'd never had a mental blockage like this before. She was supposed to be the one who was good at thinking of her feet … and yet she was standing completely still, just watching as everyone else took care of business.

She was lucky she didn't get a Stunner in the chest while she stood there gaping at Ron and Harry, her best friends since she was eleven, who were both deeply engrossed in their individual battles.

'HERMIONE!'

She spun around just in time to see a Death Eater advancing on her.

'_Stupefy_!' Ron yelled. The Death Eater fell before he could utter a curse. 'Hell, Hermione. Be more –'

'_Crucio_!'

Ron fell to the ground and began writhing in pain. Hermione's blood ran cold. He was screaming so loud …

'_Stupefy_!' she cried. She said the first spell she could think of. Well, no. The first one she thought of was _Avada Kedavra_. But she couldn't say that one. She'd _wanted _to (which was scary in itself), but she knew she couldn't – shouldn't.

The second Death Eater fell and the screaming died away. Ron lay there, gasping for breath. He grabbed the wand he'd let go, and then struggled to his feet.

'Are you all right?' she asked, and it was then that she noticed the tears running down her cheeks.

'Y-yeah,' he said. 'Don't stop fighting.' He turned back to where he'd been before, but not before giving the unconscious Death Eater a swift kick in the ribs.

_Next_ _time_, Hermione thought, looking at the Death Eater she'd Stunned. _Next time_, _if you so much as _try _to hurt him_, _you won't get off so easily_.

……………………………………………………………

The Death Eater went down and Harry looked up just in time to see Draco Malfoy running by.

He thought of Dumbledore, and then of that night at Malfoy Manor, and vowed that he wouldn't let the bastard get away this time.

He took off after Malfoy, ignoring Tonks, who was calling to him and ordering him to stay within sight. Most of the Death Eaters were either Stunned or had Apparated away already. Clearly, Malfoy was trying to flee. Harry wouldn't let him.

He used the Trip Jinx which he had, ironically enough, learned from Malfoy himself.

Malfoy was sent flying onto the grass. Harry dove forward and snatched Malfoy's wand, then threw it away. He turned the boy over. Taking his own wand, he pressed the tip into Malfoy's throat as he leaned all his weight onto his nemesis.

'Here we are again,' Harry said.

'P-Potter.'

'Malfoy. Not so tough without your dear old dad around, are you?'

Malfoy went to speak, but Harry jabbed his wand harder into him.

The strongest sense of loathing Harry had ever known washed over him. He had attempted an Unforgivable before on Bellatrix Lestrage, but he hadn't been able to do it. And although he'd thought that he'd be able to do one that night when Malfoy had cornered Dumbledore, he probably wouldn't have been able to go through with it. But he knew now, as he looked down at Malfoy, that he would be successful if he tried one tonight. And not just that – he knew he wouldn't rest until he'd really done it, until he'd given Malfoy exactly what the boy deserved.

'HARRY!'

It was Hermione, he could tell by her voice. But he refused to take his eyes off of his enemy. He was so close – he couldn't get distracted now and give Malfoy a chance to slip away. This was the end of the line. It had to be.

'Go away, Hermione.' Why did his voice sound so strange?

'Don't –'

'Just turn around and walk away.'

'B-but …' she said, and he could hear the fear in her voice. He could picture the look Hermione must have been giving him, and he hated it. But he was too involved in the moment to care. 'He's not worth it.'

'It doesn't matter,' Harry said. 'I need to do this … He can't get away again …'

Malfoy must have realized that Harry meant business, because he started fighting against him, trying to get away.

'Please,' Hermione said. 'This isn't right … what would Ginny say?'

He closed his eyes tightly.

_Fuck_. Why did she have to bring up Ginny?

Harry hated Hermione just then, almost as much as he hated Malfoy, because she knew exactly how to manipulate him, and she wasn't afraid to do it.

'Fine,' Harry said through gritted teeth. He looked down at Malfoy again. 'I'm letting you go. But this is the last time you get away. If I ever see you again, you're dead. You have my word on that.'

He punched Malfoy once and then got to his feet.

'Harry –' Hermione started, but he held out his hand to quiet her.

'Just … not now.'

They walked in silence back to the house that had been under attack moments ago. Harry felt different now. Everything felt different now.

What if Hermione hadn't been there to stop him?

He knew the answer. He would've killed Malfoy. And – and – was it wrong that he was disappointed that he'd been interrupted?

'_Oh_ –'

No Death Eaters were in sight, but the house had been set on fire. Harry and Hermione jogged over.

Tonks and the others were sending spells toward the house, trying to extinguish the fire, but nothing was working.

'No!' someone called.

Harry looked over and saw that it was the Muggle woman. She was standing beside her husband and holding a small infant. But hadn't Tonks said there were _two _small children?

'My daughter is – oh – she's in there! She's still in there!'

He looked at the burning house and then back at the Muggles standing on the grass, watching as their house burned to the ground with their child inside. And without thinking twice about it, Harry ran into the house, not hearing Hermione and Ron calling after him.

He coughed as the smoke began to fill his lungs. He squinted, but couldn't see a damn thing through his glasses. He ran in deeper. 'Hello?' he yelled, and then coughed. 'Can you hear me?'

He tried to get down low, but there wasn't much room to maneuver. A beam fell from the ceiling and nearly took him out. He clutched his wand in one hand as he moved.

'Hello?'

He looked through a doorway and saw a small, dirty face looking back at him. The little girl gave a small squeak.

'It's okay,' he said. 'Come here.'

She didn't budge.

'Please – your family's outside,' he said. 'You've got to come with me. It's not safe in here.'

There was no way of getting her out. He'd have to Stun her, and he didn't want to do that. He coughed and nearly doubled over. He could hardly breathe in there. It was getting too smoky, and he'd have to leave soon, whether she was with him or not. He reached for her.

'Take my hand,' he yelled. 'I won't hurt you.'

Her eyes flickered from his face to his outstretched hand and then back. Finally, she looked at his wand and started to cry. He cursed and pocketed his wand.

'Please,' he said. 'Just – just take my hand.'

She reached out hesitantly and grabbed Harry's hand.

He pulled her to him and looked around. The beam that had fallen was blocking the doorway. He couldn't go back the way he came.

He stood there helplessly for a moment before realizing that he could Apparate.

He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. The cool air hit him and he found himself on the grass outside the house. The little girl was still in his arms. He released her and then surveyed her for damage. Her face was dirty from the smoke and her pigtails were half out. She had bright red hair and a cute button nose, and he immediately thought of Ginny. She began to cry harder when he let her go and so he picked her up again and carried her over to her mother, who snatched her out of his arms and gave him a half-grateful, half-frightened look before turning back to her husband, all the while sobbing incoherently.

……………………………………………………………


	33. The Party

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Harry let Malfoy go instead of trying to get him put into Azkaban because Azkaban is incredibly worthless at this point. The Dementors aren't working with the Ministry anymore, and Draco would probably be out in no time, especially if Lucius had anything to do with it. I don't know about JKR's 7th-book version Harry Potter, but my post-HBP Harry wouldn't be happy doing Malfoy in unless he did it himself. Maybe you think the canon Harry is going to be more gentlemanly about it, and maybe you're right. But mine is going to be taking names.**

**Chapter Thirty-Three: The Party  
**……………………………………………………………

'What part of _be careful_ do you not understand?'

'I said I was sorry.'

'Sorry? You ran into a house when it was on fire!'

How daft could he be? Was he _trying _to get himself killed? And just where were Ron and Hermione during all of this? They were supposed to watch him and make sure he didn't do something so … _Harry_.

Harry winced and dropped his head forward, onto his arm. 'Can we do this later? I'm kind of busy right now.'

Ginny looked at him fiercely for a moment before nodding and sitting down. Harry was sitting backward on a chair in one of the bedrooms in Grimmauld Place, and Audrey was rubbing something over his burns.

'Bugger!' he yelled. She jumped up off the bed and knelt beside him. She frowned at him, but rubbed the side of his face soothingly. 'That stings!'

'That means it's working,' said Audrey. 'Keep still.'

_Make you think twice about running into a burning house next time_,_ huh_?

His voice echoed in her head – _What did you want me to do_? _Just watch it burn_?

_You can't be the hero all the time_, _Harry_. _You need to learn that_.

'Drink this,' Audrey said, completely oblivious to the way Harry and Ginny were communicating. She handed him a potion and he made a face after gulping it down.

_Is there anything I can do_? she asked.

_You can stop lecturing me for a second_, he told her, smirking.

_I know_. _I don't mean to act like such a cow_. _It's just scary _… _I have to stay here and sit on my hands while you're out there doing who-knows-what _… _and to keep from going crazy, I tell myself that you'll come back okay_. _And then you show up like this_. _What am I supposed to think_?

He frowned. _You worry too much_.

_You don't worry enough_.

_Then I guess we're perfect for each other_,_ then_.

She smiled grudgingly and stood up.

The door opened suddenly and a small girl with red hair poked her head in and smiled. 'Muuummmm!' she yelled.

A moment later, a woman entered the room behind the little girl. Her eyes darted around once before landing on Harry. 'Excuse me,' she said. 'Is this a bad time?'

'No,' Audrey said. She put a large bandage over Harry's back and handed him a shirt. 'All done. That should be good as new in a few hours.' She looked at the small girl, then up at the woman. 'How is she?'

'Good,' the woman said. 'The other doctor – erm, Healer? – checked her out.'

Audrey smiled and then left. Feeling out of place, Ginny made to leave as well, but Harry stopped her and told her she could stay.

'Oh, my,' said the woman, taking a few hesitant steps toward Harry. 'Are you all right?'

'Oh, yeah. It's nothing,' Harry said casually. He shrugged, and then winced. Ginny scowled.

'It's not nothing, you git,' Ginny muttered.

'This is Ginny,' he said, ignoring her. 'Don't mind her. She's a little hacked off at me right now.'

The little girl tugged Harry's glasses off of his face and put them on hers. Harry laughed and then squinted up at the woman again.

'I – I just wanted to come and thank you,' she said.

What was this all about?

Ginny must've made a noise, because the woman turned and looked at her. 'He's told you, hasn't he?' she asked.

'Um, actually,' Ginny said, glancing at Harry. 'He hasn't said a thing.'

_What's she going on about_?

_It's not important_, _Gin_.

'He saved my daughter's life.'

'He did _what_?'

'Our house was on fire and she was … inside. He went in after her. If it hadn't been for him …'

Ginny gasped. Oh, she was such a horrible person. She'd given him an earful about his injuries, and he'd only done it to save that precious little girl.

_Oh_, _Harry_. _I'm so sorry_. _I'm awful_.

_No_, _you're not_.

_Why didn't you tell me_? _You just let me stand here and yell at you_!

_I don't know_. _It's not that important_.

_You don't think it's important that you ran into a burning house to save a little girl who you don't even know and will probably never see again_?

_Well_ … _I guess it is _… _a little_.

'Anyway,' the woman continued. 'The – the man downstairs said he was going to e-erase our memories. I wanted the chance to thank you first.'

……………………………………………………………

Ron found Hermione sitting on the floor in the living room of Grimmauld Place and leaning up against the wall. She wore a sort of far-away expression on her face.

'Happy birthday,' Ron said. 'I mean, I'm sure it hasn't been that great yet, or anything, but the party tomorrow should be fun.'

Hermione nodded. 'It'll be nice,' she agreed.

Ron frowned and sat down on the floor beside her. 'I know I'm not normally good at emotions and all that rubbish, but even _I _can tell that something's wrong.'

She shrugged. 'Do you ever get the feeling that we're not all going to make it out of this?'

'What? What makes you think that?'

'Remember before, when I told you I thought that we would all be together forever? I was fooling myself. I wanted so badly to believe that I was right,' she said. 'But we have to think logically. Harry almost died tonight, and not because the Death Eaters almost got him, but because he's just too much of a hero for his own good.'

'Yeah, but that's just Harry,' Ron said after a moment. 'He's always been like that.'

'And he's always _just _escaped death because someone has always been there to keep him in line. But he's – soon, he's going to be in charge. Don't you think? And what then?' she asked. 'We – we should have been there to stop him from running in there. We should have been watching out for him. We need to be his _friends_. We need to take care of him.'

'He isn't four,' Ron said. 'He doesn't need us trying to be his babysitters.'

'He does,' she argued. 'As long as he's acting recklessly, he needs us to be there – to hold him back and not let him run ahead without thinking things through.'

'Hermione,' he said pleadingly. He just wanted to change the subject. He didn't want to sit here and talk about whether or not Harry's number was almost up. How morbid was that? 'Harry's not the only one who almost died in the past. You got hurt pretty badly at the Department of Mysteries, and you weren't, er, "acting recklessly", were you?'

'No,' she said. 'If I had been reckless, though, I'm almost positive that I_ would _have died.'

'I –' Ron began, but Audrey came down the stairs then and he forgot was he was going to say. 'How's Harry?'

'He'll be fine,' Audrey said. 'Nasty burns, though. Good thing he didn't wait to have them looked at.'

Earl, the other Healer, called Audrey's name, and she excused herself.

'That's a relief,' Hermione said. 'But do you see what I mean? Harry didn't even want to have Audrey examine him. He only did it to get Ginny off of him. He just doesn't _think _sometimes.'

'I know,' Ron admitted.

Some of what she said made sense, and he knew she was somewhat right. He also knew that she was only saying these depressing things because she wanted Harry – and everyone else – to come out of this alive. But they had conflicting methods when it came to dealing with problems. Ron avoided the situation, while Hermione liked to face it head-on.

'Really, though,' he continued. 'What are we going to do? Telling Harry to be more careful will only get him hacked off at us.'

'We have to take it upon ourselves,' she said. 'I can't stand by and let something awful happen … not again.'

Harry and Ginny appeared at the base of the stairs and Hermione fell silent.

'What're you two talking about?' Ginny asked.

'The party tomorrow,' Ron supplied, surprising even himself with his quick thinking. 'I said I bet Fred and George get drunk first.'

'And I said they had better not,' Hermione added, 'because my parents will be there.'

'I'm sure they'll behave,' Ginny said. She appeared to consider what she'd just said. 'Er, I'm sure they'll try – if you ask them to. _Maybe_.'

Harry made a face and then lightly tugged on the ends of Ginny's hair. 'C'mon. I'm knackered. Let's go home.'

……………………………………………………………

_Ginny_?_ Are you still awake_?

_Yeah_. _I can't sleep without you_.

_Same_.

_Can't you come down here for a bit_?

_Not without getting caught_.

_All right_. _So, are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or am I going to have to guess_?

_What_? _There's nothing bothering me_.

_Yes, there is_. _I can tell_.

_I _… _can't tell you_.

_You can tell me anything_.

_Not this_.

_Harry_.

_Okay, fine_. _But tomorrow, when you can't look at me, don't say I didn't try to spare you_.

_Whatever it is, it can't be as horrible as all that_.

_I _…_ almost killed someone tonight_.

_What_! _Who_?

_At the raid _… _we were all fighting and I saw Malfoy _… _I couldn't let him get away_. _I don't know what came over me_. _And if Hermione hadn't stopped me, I would've done it_. _I would've _…_ killed him_.

_Oh_, _Harry _…

_You hate me_.

_I _love _you_.

_I have no idea why you would_.

_Because you're sweet and kind, and because you drive me absolutely crazy _– _er, in a good way, that is_. _Because you make me laugh_. _Because you spent most of this school year staring at me and looking away really quickly when I glanced over at you, and then you turned around and snogged me in front of my brother, my ex-boyfriend, and about fifty others_. _Because you're totally oblivious to how great you are, which makes you even greater_._ Because_ _I fell for you when I was ten years old and I built you up so much in my head, and it turns out you're nothing like what I'd always hoped _– _you're even better_. _And it doesn't hurt that you're completely adorable, not to mention an amazing kisser_.

There was a soft _pop _as Harry Apparated into her room.

'You … you thought of all that just now?' he asked sheepishly.

She nodded. 'Yes,' she said. 'And I can keep going, if you'd like.'

'No,' he said. He sat down on the edge of her bed and half-smiled. 'I'm trying to brood and you aren't making it easy on me.'

She hit him over the head with her pillow and smiled at him, but sobered immediately. 'We – do you think we should talk about what you said before?'

Harry's eyes dropped to the blanket on her bed. 'I guess,' he said. He pulled out his wand and cast a Silencing Charm.

She leaned forward and reached for his hands. 'Look, I'm not going to pretend that the thought of you … you know … is something I like. But it's … necessary, I guess. Hell, even I'll have to do it at some point –'

'No,' Harry said stubbornly. 'You won't. I'll never let the Death Eaters get that close to you.'

'Eventually,' she said with a sigh, 'you're going to turn your back for a second. And they'll be ready. Harry, they've tried it before. They'll try it again. There's nothing we can go about it.'

'If they did try something,' Harry said, 'I would be the one to … I mean, you shouldn't have to …' He shook his head. 'Even if you did, it would be different. It would be self-defense. Malfoy was different. He was running _away_, Gin. And I followed after him. I threw him to the ground and … I wanted to do it. A part of me still wishes I had. How sick is that?'

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment, but she had to open them again. All she could see in her mind's eye was Harry pining Malfoy to the ground and muttering that awful curse …

It seemed like something a monster would do. But that wasn't the case. She wouldn't blame Harry if his emotions had gotten the best of him and he had done it. In fact, she was fairly certain her dad and Charlie, and maybe even Bill, had done it in the past. None of them were monsters.

'It's not sick,' she insisted. She wished he'd look at her. She needed him to see the sincerity in her eyes. 'There's a war going on, and everyone has to pick a side or die. Malfoy picked the wrong side. He deserves whatever he gets.'

'The night that Dumbledore died, I promised myself that I'd get my revenge on them all, especially Malfoy. But the more I thought it over, the more I started to think that maybe Malfoy wasn't as evil as he wanted everyone to think. I mean, Myrtle said he would cry in the toilets, and I even caught him that one time … But then, at Malfoy Manor, I saw how cocky he was, how _awful _he was … and he made it look like he'd been torturing you just to mess with me.' He twisted the blankets in his fist.

'He wasn't even allowed near where I was being held,' Ginny said. At least, that was what Snape had told her.

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'I knew it wasn't true but … the thought of him doing that to you … I'm not_ ever_ going to let it happen. Not again. I swear on – on _everything_.'

'If something happens to me,' she began, but he put his hand to her lips.

'Nothing is going to happen.'

'But if it does –'

'Ginny.'

'I'm just saying –'

'Well _don't _just say,' he said fiercely. '_Nothing _is going to happen to you because it just _can't_. Don't you get it? If you … if they took you from me, that would be it! I – I wouldn't even fight anymore, because there would be no bloody point! And they'd kill everyone else in the entire fucking world, but if you were already gone, the others wouldn't matter to me at all. I'd have no reason to even get out of bed in the morning, let alone win a war! And it's selfish and stupid and a whole bunch of other terrible things, but it's the truth. I'm doing all this so the world can be safe for _you_, and … I don't know … our kids?'

She smiled slightly. 'You think about that sort of stuff?' she asked.

Harry shrugged. 'I guess if you live your life knowing you might not have a future, it makes you wonder what sort of future you aren't going to get to have.'

'You're going to get a future,' she insisted. 'With me. If you want it, I mean.'

'Yeah,' Harry said, nodding almost imperceptibly. 'I think I could handle that.'

'And – if you ever need to talk about this, I'm here,' she said. 'I'm always going to be here. No matter what.'

Harry drew in a breath.

'Everyone on that side is fighting dirty. They'd kill us all without even blinking. If I could just do that back to them, we'd stand a chance. And I know I'm only as good as they are if I sink to their level, but if that's what I have to do in order to get the job done, I'll do it. I'd do anything to just get this all over with.'

Ginny rested her head against his shoulder and breathed in his scent. 'I know you would,' she said. 'That's what scares me.'

……………………………………………………………

'They're really kind of sickening, aren't they?' Ron asked.

Hermione looked up from her book and followed his eyes to Ginny and Harry, who were staring at each other and not speaking.

'I don't know,' said Hermione. 'I think they're sweet.'

'_Sweet_?' he repeated. 'Tell me if you think this is sweet.' He opened his eyes wide and stared at her. She stared back for a few seconds before laughing uncomfortably and realizing how ridiculous they must've looked.

'You're right,' she said. 'I don't know how they do it.'

Ron looked back at Harry and Ginny. 'Oi! D'you have to be so annoying?'

They jumped slightly and turned to look at Ron. 'We're not even doing anything!' Ginny said. 'We're just sitting here.'

'No, _we're _just sitting here. You two are … being weird.'

Ginny rolled her eyes and stood. 'I'm going to get something to eat, and then maybe help Mum set up. What time is everyone coming at?'

'Dunno,' said Ron.

'I'll come with you,' Harry said. He gestured rudely when Ron's coughing fit began sounding distinctly like "_whipped_", and then he got up and followed Ginny out of the room.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the two of them. She went back to her book, desperate to get her mind off of the upcoming party. Her parents would be there, and she wasn't sure how she would react to it. She wasn't sure how _they'd _react to it. She hoped they didn't get into another awful fight.

They hadn't spoken since before Ron's "funeral". When Ron had proposed throwing Hermione a birthday party, Mrs Weasley had suggested inviting Hermione's parents. She hadn't even been sure if they'd come, but Ron was so insistent. She didn't want to tell him that she'd gone completely off the deep-end last time she'd seen them (yes, now that she thought back on it, she was willing to admit she'd been a little less that lovely to them), so she'd smiled and gone along with it.

Presently, they were going to arrive any minute. And although she spent most of her wizarding life telling Ron to be mature and be the bigger person whenever he had a confrontation with Malfoy, she was finding out that it was easier to dispense advice than it was to take it.

After a moment of being lost in her own thoughts and concerns, she realized that Ron had shifted on the couch and was now sitting significantly closer than he'd previously been.

She looked up from her book again and smiled questioningly at him. 'What's wrong?' she asked.

'Oh, nothing,' he said. 'I just realized that I hadn't given you your birthday kiss yet.'

'Birthday kiss?' she asked with a small smile.

'Yeah, haven't you ever heard of it?'

'No,' she said, playing along. 'Can't say I have. Care to demonstrate?'

'Sure. I mean, I'd hate for you to not be properly informed on something,' he told her. She was saved from replying when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

They separated after several long moments. 'Actually,' Hermione said. 'I think I _have _heard of that. But if you really think about it, we've known each other since we were eleven. I've missed out on six other birthday kisses. And _you've _missed out on six, as well.'

Ron laughed. 'I guess we'll have to do something about that, then.'

They never fully reimbursed one another, though, because George came in a few minutes later and interrupted them.

'Your parents just got here,' he said. 'And they've got some packages for you … Muggle things … you might want to get down there before Dad's self-control snaps and he opens them himself.'

……………………………………………………………

Clutching her husband's hand, Mrs Granger knocked on the door to the Weasleys' house – The, er, Burrow – and when she received no answer, she walked in. She looked around nervously.

It wasn't as though she thought the Weasleys were strange (the fact that they were _wizards_ aside, they were actually rather charming people, though their language was slightly off-colour), and it wasn't as though she thought Molly and Arthur were unfit parents. Still, though, there were certain things that a mother didn't fancy having another woman do for her own daughter.

It was easier to resent the Weasleys for stealing her daughter than it was to hate her daughter for choosing a family other than their own.

She knew that she was being irrational, but she didn't care. When it came to Hermione, all she had ever hoped for was that her baby was happy and healthy and taken care of. But she'd always just assumed that she would be the one making sure all of those things were happening.

Molly Weasley smiled widely and embraced her, and as she looked into the face of the woman who had replaced her, she had to bite her cheek to keep from crying.

There was a sound of shrieking laughter just outside of the kitchen, and thinking that it was Hermione, her heart leapt and broke at the same time. It turned out that it was only Hermione's friend Harry and the redhead girl, Ginny. Harry had thrown Ginny over his shoulder, and she was laughing and yelling for him to put her down.

Harry spotted Mrs Granger and placed Ginny back on the floor, the pair sobering immediately. 'Er – hi, Mrs Granger. Mr Granger,' he said.

'Hello,' said Mrs Granger warmly. She had always liked this boy.

'I'll go get Hermione – she's just upstairs,' he said.

'S'okay, I'll go,' one of the twins (really, they looked _so _similar that she wasn't even all that concerned that she couldn't distinguish between the two) volunteered.

'I apologize for the way the house looks,' said Mrs Weasley. 'We've been so busy trying to set up that everything is sort of – well – everywhere.'

'No,' Mrs Granger said. 'It's fine.' In truth, she thought that The Burrow was actually very quaint. It was smaller than her own house, and with seven children of their own, as well as Hermione and Harry, she didn't understand how they all fit. But, somehow, Molly and Arthur managed to keep the house from caving in on top of them. Though she suspected it involved at least a little bit of magic.

'Is there anything we can do to help?' Mr Granger asked.

'No, no,' Mrs Weasley insisted. 'You're guests. Sit down and relax!'

'I'll take those,' Ginny said, and then relieved Mr Granger of the packages he held. 'Oh – this one's heavy! Probably a couple books, yeah? Hermione will love it. She's been itching for something new to read.' Harry moved to help her carry them into another room.

Mrs Granger smiled at the young girl before her. She'd only officially met Ginny Weasley twice, and both times, the girl had been slightly less than cheerful.

The first time had been the day the kids had been released from school, when the Grangers had joined the Weasleys for dinner in the backyard. Ginny had frowned through her entire meal and gone up to bed instead of playing that "Kwiddich" thing with her family.

The second time, her somber mood had been completely understandable. She had just been rescued from wherever it was that she'd been held, and her brother, Ron, had been killed.

Ginny hadn't been the only one who had been hurting then, though. Hermione had been absolutely _devastated_.

Mrs Granger couldn't stand watching her daughter be in so much pain. She had only wanted to bring Hermione home and take care of her the way she used to. But it was Mrs Weasley who had taken care of her, and that was too unsettling.

At first, she had believed that this whole "witch" thing was an April Fools prank of some sort. And when it turned out that it was real, she had allowed her daughter to go off to a strange school that was thousands of miles away, without any means of contacting her short of an _owl_. Her one concern would be that Hermione would turn her back on their world and way of doing things. Using magic was surely easier than doing things the manual way. Hermione had been far more advanced than the other children her age, and it was no question that she would excel at whatever task she faced at Hogwarts.

Mrs Granger hadn't minded when Hermione went to stay with the Weasleys at first – she was pleased, mostly, that her daughter had made friends. Soon, though, she began to miss having Hermione in the house. Still, she'd let her daughter go. It was selfish of her to force Hermione to stay with them when she clearly wanted to be at The Burrow. But could she be blamed for wanting to spend even a little time with Hermione? She'd been almost completely shut out this past year.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Ron entered the kitchen and smiled in greeting.

It was a strange thing to see; someone who she had thought to be dead was up and walking around as though nothing had ever happened.

When she had received the … _owl _… saying that Ron was very much alive and well, she hadn't believed it, but had known better than to think Hermione had sent the letter as a joke.

His hand was clasped tightly in Hermione's, and it almost looked as though he was pulling her into the room against her will.

She _knew _it was a mistake coming here.

She locked eyes with Hermione, who, much to her surprise, smiled. 'Mum … Dad,' said Hermione. 'Hi.'

This was by far the most awkward moment she'd ever shared with her daughter, including the time they'd spoken about "the birds and the bees".

'Happy birthday,' said Mrs Granger hesitantly.

'Happy birthday,' her husband said, and she nearly forgot that he was even standing beside her. She'd released his hand ages ago.

'Thanks,' Hermione said.

She held out her arms awkwardly and Hermione stepped into them. 'I've missed you,' she admitted to her daughter.

'I've missed you, too,' Hermione sniffed. 'I'm sorry about everything. But you sort of just showed up – and Ron was – and – and I couldn't go home.'

'It was selfish of us – of me – to expect you to come home after everything that had happened,' her mother said.

They separated after a moment. Hermione greeted her father as Mrs Granger wrapped her arms around Ron and kissed his cheek. 'I – um – hello, Mrs Granger,' Ron said awkwardly.

'I'm very glad that you're okay,' she said sincerely. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. 'And – if I may ask – what, exactly, happened?'

Ron looked at Hermione, who hesitated for a second before sighing and gesturing toward the kitchen table.

'Maybe you two should sit down,' Hermione said. 'We still have a little time before the rest of the guests arrive.'

'Are you going to tell us what's going on around here?' Mr Granger asked.

'Yes,' Hermione said, looking at her feet. 'We'll tell you everything.'

……………………………………………………………

'Are you okay, Mrs Granger?' Harry asked.

The four teens had taken their turns talking, explaining everything they could to Hermione's parents without saying _too _much and jeopardizing their security. The guests had arrived just as they were wrapping up, and the party was now in full-swing.

'Harry,' she said, her eyes still wide. 'I just – well – oh, I need a drink.'

Harry tried not to smile as Mrs Granger grabbed a Firewhisky.

After entertaining a friendly (and, Harry was relieved to note, a non-Voldemort related) conversation with McGonagall and Lupin for quite some time, Ginny came over and he excused himself.

'Well,' Harry said, sitting down beside her on the couch. 'What d'you want for your birthday?'

Ginny shrugged. 'I've already got everything I need,' she said.

'I didn't ask you what you needed,' he said, leaning in a little closer to her. 'I asked what you _wanted_.'

She smirked. 'You,' she said.

'Me? You've already got me. C'mon,' he said, 'be serious. I'll get you anything you want. It doesn't matter to me what it is. Just tell me.'

_You_, she told him. _Let's go to my room_.

He looked around, suddenly very aware that over half the people in the house were direct relatives of Ginny's, and the other half were nearly all members of the Order. He knew that his face probably held a very scandalized look, but he couldn't help it. 'You – your _entire _family is here!'

_Look around – they're all completely pissed_. _They wouldn't notice us if we caught fire and started doing flips around the bloody room_. _Come on_.

_But Gin _–

_Fine_. _Never mind_. _Forget I offered_.

Forget? No, no, that wasn't what he wanted to do at ALL. He was merely going to suggest that they do it discreetly – leave one at a time, even.

_No, I never said that_! _I _–

_Oh, I think that's what you said_.

She leaned forward slightly, giving him a rather lovely view down the front of her dress.

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Gin_ny_,' he said aloud, getting dangerously close to begging. _I didn't say that exactly _… _I was merely, um, weighing the pros and cons_. _And I've decided that the pros greatly outweigh the cons _…

_All right_. Ginny sighed. _You win_. _Let's go_.

He was well aware that she'd twisted the conversation around, but he certainly wasn't about to argue with her.

They stood up and were making their way through the crowd of people when they heard: 'Hey! Ginny!'

Ginny cursed and Harry turned to see Fred coming toward them. 'Have a drink!' he said, and thrust a bottle of Firewhisky into both her and Harry's hands. He stood there, watching, as if to make sure they would accept them.

'Um, thanks,' said Ginny.

'Well?'

'Well what?'

'Drink!' shouted Fred, and the rest of the Weasley sons cheered and thrust their glasses into the air. 'It's a party!'

Sighing, they both tossed their heads back and took a long drink. It burned on the way down – it wasn't called Firewhisky for nothing, of course – but after Harry's sixth or seventh sip, it wasn't as bad.

Ron came up behind them and started talking, effectively blocking their exit route to the stairs. Damn! There was no escaping now. If Ron figured out what they were trying to do – well, that wouldn't be good.

'Where's Hermione?' asked Ginny.

Ron gestured to the corner, where Hermione was chatting with Kinglsey. 'Honestly! We're at a party, and all she wants to do is talk about smart things!'

Harry grinned and took a nice sip of his drink. He and Ginny somehow ended up surrounded by five of her brothers, something that made Harry uneasy. They all looked at him as if they _knew _exactly what was on his mind. And there was no way for him to get it off his mind now.

'Remember the last time we drank?' Ginny whispered in his ear.

Oh, yes. He would have to be awfully plastered not to remember _that_.

Shite! Ginny was such a tease.

They mingled with the rest of the guests, and Fred – who, apparently, had designated himself "bartender" – never left them without a drink in their hands. By the time the party was starting to thin out, and it looked as if they might actually get away, both Harry and Ginny were rather drunk.

'This isn't gonna happen,' he told her. 'Can't do the Charm. Can't do … anything.'

She grinned and rubbed against him when she weaved out of the crowd to go over to Hermione, and he thought, fleetingly, that she'd never intended on acting on her words, but merely wanted to see how worked up she could get him tonight.

'Minx,' he muttered.

'Huh?' said Ron.

……………………………………………………………

'Psst! Hermione.' Hermione looked up when Ginny called, and Ginny gestured toward the kitchen. She could feel herself wobbling slightly on her feet as she walked. 'C'mere.'

Hermione excused herself from her conversation and met Ginny in the deserted kitchen. 'What is it?' she asked

'Can you do the Contraceptive Charm?' Ginny whispered.

'Why?'

She rolled her eyes at Hermione's question.

She looked around wildly, making sure none of her brothers were listening. It would be disaster if they were. 'Harry and I,' she whispered loudly, 'are a _little_ drunk! So can you? I'd really appreesh – appreesh – appreciate it.'

'I don't even know how,' Hermione said. 'Sorry.'

'S'okay,' Ginny said dejectedly. She felt a hand around her wrist and turned to see Harry standing behind her.

_Upstairs_?

_No Charm_.

_So_? _We just won't _… _I mean, we can still_ …

He was blushing, and it made her laugh.

_Okay_, she agreed.

Harry tugged on her sleeve and started to pull her over to the stairs. 'G'night, Hermione,' he called.

'What'll I do if anyone starts looking for you?' she asked.

'You're smart! Think of something!'

They left Hermione and eventually made it up to Ginny's room. Standing in the doorway, he unzipped her dress as she pulled his shirt over his head. When Ginny turned to pull Harry into her room, she nearly screamed. 'Oh!' she gasped, and her hand flew up to her mouth.

Tonks buttoned her shirt and Lupin flushed. 'We were just –'

'Snogging?' Harry supplied.

'Yeah!' Ginny cried. 'In _my_ room!'

They both muttered apologizes and left. As Tonks passed by, Ginny grabbed her arm and halted her. 'Do one thing for me,' she said, 'and nobody has to know about this.'

Tonks raised an eyebrow. 'You would tell?'

'It might slip out,' Ginny said vaguely.

Tonks sighed. 'What do you need?'

'Contraceptive Charm.'

'Your mum would kill me –'

'Have it your way, then.'

Tonks sighed and pulled out her wand.

……………………………………………………………

**I am in desperate need of a subplot for Ron and Hermione. To be quite honest, I'm really only interested in this pairing when they're not together or when they're bickering, and I'm not going to break them up or constantly have them arguing. Unless I come up with something I like, or I get a good suggestion, I'm going to keep this story predominately H/G with R/Hr just on the side. But, of course, any suggestions will be greatly appreciated. And if used, credit will be given where credit is due.**


	34. The Next Hurdle

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**This chapter is a transition chapter, which is why it's shorter than usual. Expect the next chapter to be better (hopefully).**

**Thanks for the suggestions, everyone. I really liked a lot of them. **

**Chapter Thirty-Four: The Next Hurdle  
**……………………………………………………………

Harry's head hurt.

Judging by the noise Ginny made beside him, her head was also hurting.

'Hangover Potion,' she muttered into his neck.

'Did you make one?' he asked.

'No,' she whined. 'But I really _need _one.'

Harry forced his eyes open and winced against the light that shone through the curtain. He rolled over and nearly fell out of bed when his eyes landed on Ginny's clock.

'Oh!'

_Not so loud, Harry _…_ I'm dying here_.

_Ginny _­–_ the clock_.

_It's too early to get up_.

_It's nearly breakfast_!

Ginny shot up. Her hand immediately flew to her forehead. 'Ouch,' she said. Then, she looked at him with wide eyes. _Don't just stand there_! _Get dressed and Apparate up to the twins' room before someone comes looking for you_!

_The twins probably spent the night here_, Harry reasoned. _I think all of your brothers did_, _actually_._ The only thing I can do is go up to Ron's room_._ Maybe he's still sleeping_ _and won't see me sneak in_. _Or maybe he passed out on the couch last night and hasn't even been up to his room yet_.

_Hurry up_, _then_._ And if Mum tries to come up here and wake me up_, _don't let her_.

Harry forced himself out of bed and pulled on his clothes. _Okay_. _Bye_.

Each step was murder as Harry climbed the stairs up to Ron's room. He felt as though he was walking toward his doom – and maybe, in some sense, he was. He said a silent prayer that Ron had stumbled into his bedroom late last night and hadn't noticed the empty bed beside him.

He passed Hermione, who was coming out of Ron's room. She handed him a glass. 'Hangover Potion,' she said softly. 'I was just coming to find you.'

He gulped it down gratefully and although the taste was rather awful, he felt his head immediately begin to clear. 'Thanks,' he said.

She looked at him expectantly for a moment.

'I'm, uh, going up to Ron's room,' Harry said tentatively. 'He isn't – he isn't awake, is he?'

Hermione bit her lip.

'Shite,' Harry said. 'D'you think he'll believe that I passed out in the loo after spending the night throwing up? Can't get mad at a bloke who was up sick half the night, can you?'

'Actually,' Hermione said, 'Ron got up quite some time ago. He's already been to the loo and he'll know you're lying … oh, Harry, would you like me to come up with you?'

'No,' Harry said. He knew Ron would be furious with him, but he also knew that Ron would think Harry was a complete coward if he dragged Hermione up there as his shield. 'It'll be okay. You can go down to breakfast. Oh – and try not to wake Ginny. Just leave the Potion beside her bed, yeah?'

Hermione nodded. Giving him one final look of concern, she turned and began walking downstairs.

Harry paused before going into Ron's room. What was he going to say? Ron was going to _kill _him. It wasn't as if he could pretend nothing had happened with him and Ginny.

When he thought back on it, he couldn't believe how stupid they'd been. They'd just disappeared together. Ginny's brothers might've been drunk, but surely at least _one _of them hadn't been completely incoherent. And what about Ginny's parents? How was he going to face them at breakfast? This was a disaster.

Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed Ron's door open and went inside. 'Er, good morning,' he said.

Ron fixed him with a nasty glare before pushing past him and going out the door.

This _so _wasn't good.

……………………………………………………………

Ron avoided Harry's gaze all morning and only spoke to him when he asked Harry to pass the pumpkin juice.

Harry didn't mind very much. If Ron wanted to act immature, that was his prerogative. Ginny tried several times to speak to him, and each time, Ron acted like a complete arsehole to her. Needless to say, Ron wasn't the only one who was angry at the moment.

Thankfully, the other Weasleys didn't know why Ron and Harry weren't speaking. During breakfast, Mrs Weasley had inquired about why they were so quiet, but both boys had shrugged and muttered something about being tired before going back to their meals.

It was to be a full moon that night, so when Harry and Ron went to Hogwarts for training, they practiced with Tonks instead of Lupin.

'We're going to do some more physical training today,' Tonks said when she came in. 'I hope the party wasn't too much for you last night, because we have quite a bit to cover today.'

They started by running laps around the Quidditch Pitch, as always. Ron and Harry ran in silence, and Harry was grateful for it, because it gave him time to think of how he was going to make things right again. He and Ron had had their share of arguments in the past – they'd sometimes gone days, even weeks, without speaking – but they had been kids then.

They were _adults _now, and they should've been able to deal with their hostile feelings far better than they currently were. However, Harry knew that pointing this out to Ron would most likely earn him a punch in the face, so he said nothing.

Still, Harry had to wonder – what would happen when he, Ron and Hermione left and went searching for Horcruxes? If he and Ron got into an argument over something, would the entire mission be jeopardized because neither could get over it and keep focused? And what about Hermione? Would she get caught in the middle, like Harry always did when she and Ron feuded? She would obviously side with Ron now. Where would that leave Harry?

He hated thinking about things like this, about worrying himself over fights with Ron. It made him feel like a girl. But he couldn't help it – not when it came to Ron or Hermione. They'd always been there, since day one. And what if they both decided they didn't want to be there any longer? What if they went off together and left Harry alone?

He would have Ginny, of course, but she was different. Sometimes, Harry just needed to talk to a bloke. His girlfriend had red hair and freckles, but she wasn't anything like Ron.

'Let's do that thing,' Ron said, and for a moment Harry thought Ron was speaking directly to him, rather than to Tonks. 'Y'know, the thing where Harry and I fight.'

He pulled out his wand before Tonks had even agreed, and faced Harry.

Tonks must've noticed something was up between the two friends, because she looked at Harry questioningly. 'Do you want to, Harry?' she asked.

If he said no, Ron would hate him.

If he said yes, Ron would still hate him. But at least Ron would get out his aggression and Harry would be able to look at his best mate without receiving dirty looks in return.

'Er,' Harry said, 'fine.'

Harry pulled out his wand and hoped for the best.

……………………………………………………………

'So tell me,' Ron said.

Audrey had just been over to examine and treat both Ron and Harry, and now they were lying on their backs, staring up at the sky, with orders not to move until Tonks returned.

'Did you have fun with my sister last night?'

He was too sore and far too tired to speak with as much malice as he'd like.

'I don't know,' Harry said, sounding just as weary as Ron felt. 'Did you have fun with mine?'

'You don't even have a sister,' Ron said.

'Hermione's my sister,' Harry said simply.

In a way, Harry was right. But in another way, he couldn't have been more wrong.

Harry hadn't watched Hermione grow up the way Ron had with Ginny. Harry hadn't taken baths with Hermione when they were little, and he'd never put a bandage on her knee after she'd fallen. She'd never snuck into his room in the middle of the night crying because she'd had another dream about Tom Riddle and he was the only one she felt could protect her. And although Harry would jump in front of Hermione in a second if he thought something bad was going to happen to her, it was different than it was when Ron jumped in front of Ginny.

'Not by blood,' Ron said.

'Since when do _you _care about blood?' Harry challenged, and Ron knew he was right. Blood didn't make a family. Harry was as much his brother as Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the twins were.

If he absolutely _had _to pick someone to be with Ginny, it would be Harry. But it was a lot easier to feel good about his sister's relationship with his best mate when it wasn't being flaunted in front of him. And it was even easier when he didn't know exactly what that relationship entailed.

Merlin, what if Harry _died_?

He didn't normally let himself think about things like that, but it _was _a possibility. And what would happen to Ginny if Harry was gone? Ron wouldn't be able to pick up the pieces. Not this time.

He wanted his sister to be happy. She deserved it. She deserved to feel the same way as Ron did when he was with Hermione. But what if she could only ever feel that way with Harry? After all, Ron was certain he could only feel that way with Hermione.

'If you hurt her, I'll cut it off,' Ron threatened, changing tactics.

Harry shifted slightly beside him and then said, 'If I hurt her, I'll cut it off myself.'

Ron couldn't stifle the small laugh that escaped his lips. He rolled onto his good side to regard Harry.

'You're a real git, you know that?' Harry said lightly.

'You shagged my sister and now you're calling me names?'

'Pretty much,' Harry concluded. 'And you're only hacked off with me and Ginny because Hermione still won't let you shag her.'

Ron felt his ears begin to turn red.

……………………………………………………………

Hermione spent the next day with her parents. The Weasleys were called to Hogwarts, but she stayed at The Burrow to see her parents off.

'We want you to come home,' Mrs Granger said, as they stood at the door and prepared to leave, 'but we know that you don't want to, and we have to respect that.'

'The second you want to come home, though,' Mr Granger piped up, 'don't hesitate to contact us. We'll be here to pick you up as soon as we can.'

'I appreciate that,' Hermione said. 'I really do. But I'm going to stick this out until the end.'

'What if you get hurt?'

Hermione wrung her hands. 'I'm willing to take that chance,' she said sincerely. 'I don't care what I have to do, I'm going to help Harry and the others win this fight.'

'Why is it your responsibility?' Mrs Granger asked. 'Why is it suddenly _your _fight?'

'It's always been my fight,' Hermione told them. 'I have been involved since the day I went to Hogwarts. Just because I've never really given you all the details doesn't mean I haven't been in this sort of situation before.'

Hermione's parents frowned.

'I know that there's a chance I could get seriously injured,' she continued. 'I may even die. But I think my life is a small price to pay if our side can win this war.'

'Don't say that!' Mrs Granger cried.

'It's the truth,' she said, 'whether you agree or not. Harry's parents are dead, and so is his godfather, and so are a ton of others that he loved. He's lost _so _much, but he's still going. And as long as he's fighting, so am I. I can't let him go alone. I won't.'

'Ron can go with him,' Mr Granger said. 'You don't need to.'

'I _want _to,' she said. 'Especially if Ron is going.'

Why couldn't her parents seem to understand what she was saying? Was she not articulate enough? How could she make them realize that this whole thing was more important to the survival of both wizards and Muggles than her parents realized and acknowledged?

'I'm doing this for you, too,' she said. 'If Voldemort wins this war, the first thing he does will be to come after people like you, who don't have magic. By being so active in this war, I've already put a target on both of your backs. Now, it's my job to defend you.'

'Hermione –'

'All I'm asking,' she said softly, 'is for you to understand why I'm not coming home with you today.'

Mrs Granger and Mr Granger looked at each other, and then at their daughter. Nodding, Mrs Granger said, 'We – we understand.'

……………………………………………………………

Harry was running laps when he looked up and noticed McGonagall standing by the pitch. He slowed to a jog and then stopped altogether when he was sure she was there to talk to him.

'Professor?' he asked, noticing her expression. "What is it?'

'Come with me,' McGonagall said. 'Weasley, too.'

Harry signaled Ron and they followed McGonagall into Hogwarts. As they made their way up to Dumbledore's old office, they kept throwing questioning glances toward one another, but neither had the guts to ask McGonagall about what was going on. It didn't appear as though she would give them any clues, anyway.

The rest of the Weasleys were waiting in the office when Harry and Ron arrived. Ginny gave him a nervous look. He stood unmoving for a moment before Ron spoke, a strange sense of panic in his voice.

'Where's Hermione?'

Harry felt a sickening sense of dread pooling in his stomach. Hermione? No, not Hermione. Nothing could've happened to her! She was supposed to be at The Burrow … she was supposed to be safe! As long as she was there, the Death Eaters couldn't touch her. Could they?

Suddenly, the world felt like it was caving in on top of him. Hogwarts had been attacked … so had The Burrow, at the wedding … was Grimmauld Place next? Was there no safety left in the world at _all _anymore?

_Where was Hermione_?

Wherever she was, she had to be okay. And they would get her back, because they just had to. It was Hermione. She was his sister in every sense of the word.

But thank _Merlin _it had been Hermione, and not Ginny. Yes, Ginny was still okay. And it was an awful thing Harry was doing – feeling relieved that Hermione had been taken instead of Ginny – but really, wouldn't Ron do the same thing if the roles were reversed? It didn't mean Harry _wanted _Hermione to be hurt, just as Ron wouldn't _want _Ginny to be hurt. But, ultimately, if it came down to a decision of who to rescue, between his two friends and his girlfriend, Harry would choose Ginny. And Ron would choose Hermione. That was just the way it was now.

'She's fine,' Ginny said quickly.

'She's spending time with her parents,' Mrs Weasley said. 'Before they leave.'

Harry sighed in relief. But if Hermione wasn't present, the information they were about to hear couldn't be all that important, could it?

'So why are we here?' Ron asked.

'Dunno,' said Fred.

'We're just as clueless as you,' George said.

'Well, maybe not _that _clueless …' Fred added with a snicker.

'Professor?' Ginny asked. 'Harry and Ron are here now … can you tell us what you needed to talk to us about?'

McGonagall nodded severely. 'I am afraid,' she said, 'that the recent developments of which I am about to speak will serve only to complicate matters.'

'What recent developments?' Mr Weasley asked.

McGonagall paused, and then said: 'A second prophecy has been made.'

Harry felt the blood drain from his face. 'What?' he said. 'But – about me?'

'Yes,' McGonagall said. 'There are two names on this one, as well.'

'Me and Voldemort,' Harry said. He didn't think he needed to guess.

'You are indeed the first name,' McGonagall told him. 'But the second name belongs to Miss Weasley.'

……………………………………………………………

**For every 93 people reading this story, I get one review. Don't let yourself be one of those other 92 people! Hehe.**


	35. The Second Prophecy

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**I woke up the morning after the last update to 107 reviews waiting for me in my inbox. And I've gotten more and more since then. Thank you all so, so much!**

**Chapter Thirty-Five: The Second Prophecy  
**……………………………………………………………

'_What_?'

'What does it say?' Fred asked.

Ginny gulped and looked at Harry, who slowly took the seat beside her and stared at his shoes.

'We do not know,' said McGonagall. 'As it is, we have no way of hearing the prophecy.'

'So how do we find out what it says?' Ginny asked, finally finding her voice. This was insane. How could she and Harry be … prophesized about?

'Isn't it obvious? We have to go to the Department of Mysteries,' Harry said quietly.

'Absolutely not!' Mrs Weasley cried. '_No_! Ginny isn't going back there, after what happened the first time round. And Harry isn't either, for that matter.'

'Molly,' McGonagall said reasonably. 'The circumstances under which they would travel to the Department would be very different than in the past.'

'I will only agree,' said Mrs Weasley after a long moment, 'if they go during the day with a guard – _several _guards.'

'But then others will be there,' Harry said. 'I mean, we can't clear the entire floor without attracting some attention, can we?'

'I am afraid not,' McGonagall said. 'It will have to be at night.'

'No,' Mrs Weasley said stubbornly. 'You'll just have to send someone else to retrieve it.'

'Um, Molly, dear,' Mr Weasley piped up. 'If the prophecy only has Ginny and Harry's names on it, then they're the only ones who can get it.'

'I'm going,' Harry said.

'So am I,' Ginny said instantly.

'You are certainly not,' Mrs Weasley said. 'Ginevra Weasley, you will do as I tell you.'

Ginny glared at her mother, but said nothing. She knew that arguing with her mum was about as productive as arguing with a wall, and twice as frustrating. She would have to think of something. She would sneak out if it came down to that. Surely Harry would let her come with him for _this_.

'I'm still going,' Harry said when Mrs Weasley rounded on him. Really? Harry wasn't even going to fight to get permission for Ginny to accompany him? 'We need to hear this. And if Ginny can't go, I'm the only one who can get it.'

'Harry –'

'When can I go, Professor?' he asked McGonagall. 'How about tonight?'

'You will need protection, of course,' McGonagall said. 'Kingsley Shacklebolt, and any team he puts together.'

'I'm in,' Ron said immediately. 'Hermione will probably want to come, too.'

'No way we're standing around doing nothing,' said George.

'Yeah,' Fred agreed. 'We're coming with you lot.'

'Harry will be accompanied by Aurors only,' McGonagall said.

'D'you think Voldemort's side knows about this yet?'

'I received word of this news early this morning,' said McGonagall, 'though I suppose it is a possibility. We need to be prepared for anything that may come up.'

Ginny reached out and clasped Harry's hand in her own. He looked up at her briefly before dropping his gaze again. She felt herself frown and tried to use their connection to speak with him, but he kept his wall in place and wouldn't lower it.

The adults argued back and forth for several more minute before McGonagall held out her hand. 'I will call a meeting with the Order,' she said. 'In the meantime, these two –' she gestured to Harry and Ron '– should to get back to their training.'

Ron threw Ginny a concerned look before leaving, and she nearly forgot that he'd been acting like such a prat not two hours earlier. She wondered what had happened with her brother and Harry, but then, upon noticing how both boys were wincing and moving so stiffly, she decided she would rather not know.

Harry stood and mumbled a goodbye before moving toward the door. Ginny wasn't giving in that easily. Tightening her grip on his hand, she followed him, not letting go until they were both out of Dumbledore's old office.

'Coming?' Ron asked.

'I –' Harry said, and by now, he knew enough to know that the look Ginny gave him meant trouble. 'Meet you at the Pitch.'

'Right,' Ron said gruffly. 'Bye, Gin.'

When her brother had taken his leave, Ginny turned back to Harry. 'Mind telling me what happened in there?' she asked.

'What d'you mean?'

'You wouldn't even look at me, Harry.'

'I … I know,' Harry said. 'I'm sorry.' He sighed. 'I'm always dragging you into this stuff.'

'I'd be involved regardless of our relationship,' she said softly.

'Maybe,' he said. 'But you wouldn't be in this much danger. There wouldn't be a prophecy with your name on it sitting in the Department of Mysteries right now. Merlin, Ginny, do you even realize how risky this is?'

'How risky _what _is?'

Harry lowered his gaze again.

'No,' she said fiercely, and shoved him as hard as she could manage. 'You aren't doing this. You don't get to write me off because you're the Boy Who Lived and I'm just your stupid little girlfriend. Maybe you're going to save the bloody world, but when it comes to that prophecy, I am _just _as important as you are!'

'I _know _that!' he yelled. 'But you don't know what this thing says! It's not – I can tell you right now that it's not going to be something good.'

'How do you know?'

'When is it _ever _something good?' he asked, and his voice broke slightly.

She put her hand against his cheek. 'It's going to be okay.'

'And if it's not? What then?'

'Then we just … deal with it,' she said. 'Like always.'

Harry smiled slightly. 'Like always,' he repeated.

……………………………………………………………

The Weasleys had returned to The Burrow just after Hermione's parents had left, all of them seemingly on edge. Hermione looked to Ginny for an answer, but the girl shook her head and told Hermione that Ron could tell her when he got back from training. When Hermione nodded in acceptance, Ginny had trudged upstairs and gone into her room, but not before throwing one last glare in the general direction of Mrs Weasley.

Later, when Ron arrived home (Harry had stayed behind, apparently to get in a few more hours of training), he told her what had transpired in Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts.

'A second prophecy?' Hermione asked.

Ron nodded. 'Yeah … that's what McGonagall says, at least,' he told her. 'Anyway, Harry's going to the Department of Mysteries tonight to hear it.'

'The Department of Mysteries?' Hermione screeched. 'But he – do you think that's best? I mean, after what happened there before?'

Ron shrugged. 'I dunno,' he said. 'Harry seems to be okay with it. I think he's trying to forget about it.'

Hermione was beginning to feel rather unsettled. 'Forget? How will he be able to _forget_? Ron, this – this isn't good! This is exactly what I was talking about before. We need to go with him.'

'There'll be Aurors with him,' Ron said, sitting down beside her. 'How much trouble can he get into with a whole bunch of guards keeping track of his every move? What can we do for Harry that they can't?'

Hermione frowned. Sometimes, Ron just didn't get it. The Aurors hadn't been there in fifth year, when everything had happened. They hadn't been around after, either, when Harry had kept apologizing and apologizing to them all, saying that if it hadn't been for the Order, he would've led them all to their deaths that night.

Regardless of whether it was true or not (while Harry had, technically, led them there, and they may have died, they had chosen to follow him, and so it wasn't his fault at all, was it?), Hermione didn't think the Aurors would understand how complicated this situation was.

What if Harry stumbled across that veil again? Hermione would be lying if she said she didn't find it more than a little creepy the way Harry had been so drawn to it. Both Harry and Luna had seemed to know something about it that Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville hadn't, because they were both so fascinated that they'd nearly gone right through.

She hadn't thought it was something so terribly awful until after Sirius had gone through and hadn't ever come back.

'We just have to go,' she said. 'I think it's best if we do.'

'We can't,' said Ron. 'We won't be allowed. Mum won't even let Ginny go, and her name's on the bloody thing. Ginny's furious.'

'Your mum can't tell either of us what to do,' said Hermione. 'We're both of age.'

'Well, even if that's true, the Aurors probably won't let us come. D'you know how much of a risk they're taking just by letting Harry go in after hours? They won't want two extra people that they have to watch.'

Hermione sighed. He was right, and she knew it. But would she really be able to just sit back and let this happen? Harry was possibly the strongest person she knew, but at the same time, he was also the weakest – his emotions often got the best of him, and what stronger emotion was there than the love for someone lost?

Harry didn't openly talk about Sirius – she could only remember one time when he spoke of his late godfather, and that was to Ginny. Really, then, how was anyone to know what he felt about Sirius? What if he got the idea in his head to reach into the veil and try to bring him back? Would it be possible? What if he pulled someone _else _out? What if Harry was pulled _in_?

And then there was the concern that Harry wouldn't be able to pull anyone out and he wouldn't be pulled in. What would that do to him? Harry often took it upon himself to save everyone else, and if he felt that he was the reason they were in such a situation – just as he had with Ginny, and surely just as he still did with Sirius – he would stop at literally nothing to right his wrong.

'Ginny's not allowed to go?' she asked after a long pause.

'Nope,' Ron said. 'I guess Mum thinks that Death Eaters are going to be sitting up there waiting for everyone to walk through the doors so they can kill them.' He shook his head. 'She doesn't realize that we're in just as much danger here as we are out there.'

'So you think Ginny should be able to go?'

Ron made a face, and then said what Hermione had not expected. 'Yeah,' he said. 'I guess. The prophecy's as much about her as it is about Harry, right? And if Harry does need someone to look after him, like you say he does, who better to do it than Ginny? She – she's the only one he'd ever keep in line for.'

Hermione smiled. 'Gone and grown up, have you?' Ron stuck his tongue out at her and she rolled her eyes. 'Maybe not,' she said. 'But I take it you've decided against murdering Harry for what happened at the party?'

'Can't murder him,' he said. 'Then who would beat Voldemort?'

……………………………………………………………

'Who is it?' Ginny called.

If it was her mum, Ginny wasn't going to let her in. She was still furious about not being able to go with Harry tonight. Didn't she deserve to go? The prophecy was about _her_, after all. She didn't even try to figure out her mother's logic any longer. This war must've made her go insane.

Ginny knew she could hardly blame her mum for being protective. Between Percy ditching the family, Bill being wounded so badly, Ginny herself being taken at the wedding, and the entire fiasco with Ron – not to mention that Fred and George were constantly up to their ears in trouble, and Charlie was in danger every single day while working with those awful dragons – Mrs Weasley had a right to worry.

But it was just so bloody inconveniencing sometimes.

And, of course, she got the worse of it. She was the baby _and _the girl. Those were two strikes against her that she couldn't erase no matter how hard she tried, no matter how safe she already was, and no matter how brilliantly she fought and protected herself.

She was used to it when it came to her family. To an extent, she could tolerate it. And when she was in a good mood, she could almost appreciate her parents' and brothers' concerns

It was different with Harry.

She was his girlfriend, not his daughter, and she had decided that it was about time that he learned the difference. It was not up to Harry Potter to keep her safe. She was her own person, and she could take care of herself quite well.

But what was there to do? Running out on her own to prove how grown up she was would just do the opposite – solidify everyone's thoughts that she was too young and too irresponsible to handle taking up an active role in this war.

It wasn't as though she could threaten to break up with Harry unless he started to treat her better. He treated her wonderfully, except when it came to this one issue. And she knew that if she threatened to ditch him unless he let her fight, he would end up ditching her first, to keep her safe. He always had her "best interests" at heart. Git.

And if they did break up, that would be awful. She didn't _want _that. She was fairly certain that Harry Potter was the one she was meant to spend the rest of her life with.

She couldn't make him see it her way, and she couldn't possibly let him do things his way. She had dug herself quite the hole.

'It's us.'

'Come in, then,' she said. She sat up in her bed as Ron and Hermione entered her room.

'I heard,' Hermione said.

'And you've come to make everything all better?' Ginny asked blandly.

'Actually,' Hermione said, 'Ron and I are here to help you out.'

'So lose the attitude,' Ron added with a small smile. 'Or we're out of here.'

'Help me?' asked Ginny skeptically. 'How?' She felt her heart leap at the various ideas that entered her mind. What were Ron and Hermione going to do for her?

She ordered herself not to get her hopes up. Of all people, Ron would not be helping her the way she _really _wanted to be helped – finding some way to go with Harry to retrieve the Prophecy. Even if she had to pull the wool over Harry's eyes this one time, she was willing to do it. Whatever it took.

'We talked it over,' said Ron. 'And we think Mum's making a stupid decision.'

'So?' Ginny asked, though not rudely.

Hermione closed the door and then produced Harry's Invisibility Cloak from behind her back. She said, 'So we're getting you to the Department of Mysteries.'

……………………………………………………………

Harry arrived home from training twenty minutes later.

Ginny had come out of her room by then, and everyone traveled to Headquarters by Floo powder.

Her mood had lightened considerably, but she tried to come off as upset as possible. She didn't want her mum wondering why she was suddenly so cheery. And since she was going to make her mum think she had locked herself in one of the rooms in Grimmauld Place to sulk (while, really, she would be off at the Department of Mysteries), she decided she had better start acting miserable now.

Her heart was thumping so fiercely that she thought for sure the others would hear. Was she really even _considering_ pulling this off? And how was she going to convince Harry to help her?

She had the Invisibility Cloak on her, and even if Harry argued with her and refused to let her come, she was going to go anyway. He didn't have to know.

When she saw her opportunity, she pulled Harry aside and they spoke in hushed tones.

'I'm coming with you,' she said.

'What?' he asked, and much to Ginny's surprise, he didn't sound very annoyed just yet. 'Did your mum change her mind?'

She shook her head.

'Then how're you going to be coming with me?' he asked.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to explain the plan to him, just as Hermione had told her. 'I'm going to use your Invisibility Cloak to sneak out. And you're going to make sure nobody catches me.'

For the life of her, she couldn't get a read on what was going through his mind. His face was completely expressionless, almost to the point that she had to wonder if someone had just Stunned him from behind.

Harry took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. 'What do I need to do?' he asked.

……………………………………………………………

He was crazy to be letting her come with him. He was likely to get in loads of trouble with the Aurors if Ginny was discovered. But what could he do? This mission was as much his as it was hers, and even _he _couldn't turn a deaf ear to her when it came to this prophecy.

The Cloak fit her more comfortably than it did him, and as he walked around Grimmauld Place, he had to wonder if she was even following him any longer. She made virtually no noise whatsoever as she walked.

They had lowered their walls for the occasion. Harry thought this was for the best – he didn't need Ginny getting misplaced and left behind in the Department of Mysteries because he couldn't call out to her without the Aurors noticing. He knew Mrs Weasley was liable to kill him as it was. Imagining what would happen if he couldn't find Ginny was something he didn't want to contemplate just now.

_Where are you_?

_Right beside you_ was her reply, and he felt a hand smack his bottom.

He wasn't exactly sure how they were going to work this entire scheme, but he knew that Ron and Hermione were going to cover for them. He was rather pleasantly surprised that they were both willing to spend their entire night downstairs with Mr and Mrs Weasley, in order to make sure nobody went upstairs to where Ginny was supposed to be and discovered that she wasn't there.

Crossing his fingers, he turned and faced Lupin and the Aurors – Kingsley and Tonks – responsible for getting him to and from the Department safely. Little did they know, they were also responsible for Ginny Weasley. And keeping an eye on her was easier said than done – and not only because she was wearing an invisibility Cloak.

……………………………………………………………

'No way we'll all fit in there,' Tonks said, looking at the telephone box. 'I'll go first. Remus can go with Harry. Kingsley can come in last.'

They all nodded in agreement. Harry waited a moment as Tonks went into the telephone box and followed procedure.

Once she was gone, Harry stepped into the box. He felt a brush against his arm and knew that Ginny had entered the small area just before him. Lupin followed in behind him, and Harry made certain that he put himself between the two. If he could help it, he was going to make sure nobody ever found out that Ginny had come tonight. Even though he was fairly certain Lupin would cover for them, Harry wasn't willing to take the chance.

'Six … two … four … four … two,' Lupin muttered under his breath as he dialed.

A cool female voice, somewhat familiar to Harry, spoke. 'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please sate your name and business.'

Oh, this was not going to be good. Would the Invisibility Cloak hide Ginny? Or would some sort of alarm go off if Harry only said two names, because magic would be able to tell that there were three people in the telephone box?

'Remus Lupin and Harry Potter,' Lupin said. He went to continue, but Harry interjected –

'And Ginny Weasley,' he muttered, out of total obligation, and then looked up at Lupin to gauge how much trouble he was in.

Lupin looked confused for only a moment before smiling. 'Of course,' he said. 'And Ginny Weasley. The _three _of us are here to take a tour of the Ministry.'

That was the best excuse they could come up with?

Harry heard Ginny snicker but, apparently, the reason was accepted.

'Thank you. Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes.'

Harry didn't even read the badge he was handed, just pinned it to his robes and waited for the telephone box to begin moving.

'Visitors of the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.'

Harry closed his eyes and willed the silly little box to move faster. Finally, after what seemed like ages, it stopped moving.

'The Ministry wishes you a pleasant evening.'

……………………………………………………………

'So many shelves,' Ginny muttered to herself. She couldn't remember there being this many prophecies the last time she was here. They had all blown out the shelves to cause a distraction, which had destroyed hundreds – maybe even thousands – of prophecy records. Was it possible that more had been made since then? Exactly how often were prophecies made?

Lupin had offered to help Harry look around while the other Aurors stood guard. Seeing her opening, Ginny snuck in the door before Harry, and now the three of them were eagerly scanning the shelves.

She was not surprised that Lupin had reacted the way he did. He was an adult and a strong member of the Order, but Ginny still considered him to be someone she could trust and go to if she had a problem. He was the closest thing Harry had to a father, and if Ginny had to tell someone the secret about their connection, she would probably choose Lupin.

They all searched in silence for quite some time. The words seemed to blur before Ginny's eyes. She had read so many names by this point that she wasn't even certain she would recognize her own, or Harry's, if she were to come across their prophecy.

'Found it!' Harry called, the relief and anxiety evident in his voice. 'Let's get the hell out of here.'

……………………………………………………………

They got back to Headquarters and Ginny scurried upstairs quickly, then threw off the Invisibility Cloak and came back downstairs.

'Do you have it?' she asked.

'Yeah,' Harry said, and held it out to her. He turned to Tonks. 'Where can we go to listen to it?'

'Upstairs,' McGonagall said. 'I'll show you where.'

Harry and Ginny followed their old Professor up the stairs of Grimmauld Place and down a corridor, until they arrived at a room Ginny couldn't remember ever being in before. She glanced at Harry, and he looked equally confused. They had explored this house from top to bottom when they'd stayed here previously. How had they missed this room? Had it been locked all this time?

'Can we – listen to it by ourselves?' Harry asked.

'Do you think that is wise?' McGonagall asked. 'I cannot express how important this prophecy is. If you forget exactly the phrasing –'

'We won't,' Harry said quickly. 'Promise.'

'Potter,' McGonagall said sternly. 'You had better not disappoint me.'

Harry held up his hands and McGonagall nodded. She looked at them thoughtfully for another second, and then left.

'You ready?' he asked, the two of them stepping into the room. He closed the door behind him, clutching the small ball in his hands.

She swallowed. 'I love you,' she said suddenly. 'Even if – if it's something bad … I'm not going to stop.'

'I'm going to hold you to that,' he said, but she got the feeling it came out more serious than he'd intended. He asked again: 'So … ready?'

She nodded. Harry took his hand off of the ball and Ginny watched as it – the precious prophecy that stood to ruin everything she'd worked _so _hard for – fell to the floor and smashed into a million pieces.

She shut her eyes tight. It felt like hours before a small voice rang out.

'_The one with the power is unforeseen and unsuspecting _…_ she is the beginning and end, for only together can the true power be harnessed _…_ but the Dark Light is forever lurking inside and she is the one who shall be led astray once more, and only too late will it be discovered _…_ but either must die at the hand of the other, and redemption must be found in the purest of sacrifices, for only then can goodness prevail _…_ the one with the power is unforeseen and unsuspecting_.'

Ginny looked up at Harry. 'What – what does that mean?' she asked. The question hung in the air just a second longer than she'd hoped.

'I dunno,' he said. 'If the power means the same as it does in the first prophecy, then it's love.'

She had figured that already. She was focusing more on another part.

The darkness that forever lurked inside – that would be Tom. Ginny didn't have to wonder.

'_She is the one who shall be led astray once more_ …' she quoted. But it was impossible that someone – a Seer – would prophesize Ginny becoming a traitor. Unless there was another meaning? 'Does that mean what I think it means? _She _must mean _me_, since I'm the only other name on the prophecy. But that doesn't make sense. Led astray? I would never –'

'I know,' he said, though with great difficulty. 'But … how could … I mean, it even references the other prophecy …'

Ginny sniffed. 'This isn't good,' she whispered. 'This isn't good at all.'

'It'll be okay,' he said.

She shook her head. 'What do – what do we _do_?'

'We do the only thing we can do,' Harry said, without a moment's hesitation. 'We lie. We make something up'

She sniffed again and Harry frowned, obviously realizing that she was beginning to cry.

'C'mon, quit it,' he pleaded. 'We can't pull this off if everyone sees you like this.' After wiping her tears away with his thumb, he pulled her into his arms and whispered, 'We need to come up with a fake prophecy to tell everyone.'

'But – we can't do that,' she said. Everything was vanishing before her eyes. 'The prophecy is a big deal. We can't lie to the Order, Harry. If someone were to find out, we'd be in _so _much trouble.'

'That's why we make sure nobody finds out,' he said. 'Dumbledore said once that a prophecy only comes true if the people in it _make _it true. We just … won't make it true. Nobody ever needs to know.'

It was a foolish plan with many flaws, but in this moment of desperation, it sounded perfect to Ginny.

'Okay,' she said slowly. 'But do you think we should at least tell someone about our … connection? I mean, maybe we can use this somehow –'

'No,' said Harry. 'We can't do that … please.'

She was startled. 'Why not?'

'Because,' he said. 'Everything that I do – my wandless magic, sensing Voldemort with my scar – McGonagall and the others always make a big deal about it and study it and try to define it somehow … they cheapen it. They … exploit it. And I'm not going to let them do that with what we have together. This is … this is the only thing that matters to me. They can use my power and my mother's love and even _me_, for that matter, all they want. But they can't use this.'

Ginny nodded against him. 'I don't want them to use it, either,' she said. 'It's just – Harry, sometimes … you have to admit … we don't make the best decisions.'

'I know,' Harry said. 'And the minute we notice something is going wrong … we'll tell Dumbledore the truth. But until then … I can't do it, Gin. I can't tell him. Can you?'

She shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'I can't tell Dumbledore either.'

And if either of them had bothered to look at the small portrait that was barely visible in the dark shadows of the room, they would have realized that Professor Dumbledore had already heard everything.

……………………………………………………………

**Don't forget to check out my new one-shot, _Lacking_.**

**I'm going to be on a trip with friends for a week or so, and so the next update will be in two weeks. Sorry for the inconvenience – Hope everyone has a great long weekend!**


	36. The Department, Revisited

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**This passing long weekend, I took a nice five-day trip to Quebec City and Montreal! It's really gorgeous there. And French is _so _my favourite language. And then I spent four days of last week in Ottawa. Needless to say, I've spent far too much money this past month.**

**I ended up rewriting this entire chapter. Just a few things I needed to incorporate that I couldn't put off any longer. Hope this is what all you people saying "WHAT ABOUT THAT POLYJUICE THING?" have been waiting for!**

**Chapter Thirty-Six: The Department, Revisited  
**……………………………………………………………

Molly Weasley was not easily controlled.

Ron knew this. Of _course _he did. He had nearly eighteen years of experience being her son.

Keeping her away from the room Ginny pretended to shut herself away in was, admittedly, harder than Ron had expected. He _and _Hermione struggled to keep his mum busy all night. In hindsight, some of the things they'd come up with to occupy her time seemed a bit silly, but the pair had been desperate. Ron's mum tried to go up to Ginny's room fifteen times if she tried once.

'Ginny hasn't come down at all,' Mrs Weasley speculated.

'Yeah,' Ron said. 'Well …'

'She's still a little upset,' Hermione supplied.

'I should go up and speak with her.'

'No!' Ron cried. 'I mean, you know how Ginny is. She'll get over it.'

Actually, it was probably nothing short of a miracle that stopped Mrs Weasley from realizing what was happening right under her nose. Really, the Weasley family went to extensive measures to keep themselves safe, but Ginny had slipped away completely undetected.

When everyone returned home, it was as though an enormous weight was lifted off of Ron's shoulders. He was relieved that he no longer had to keep careful watch of his mum – for if it had been discovered that Ginny was gone, there was no doubt in Ron's mind that it would soon be realized that he and Hermione had been a part of the cover-up. But even more than that, he was so relieved that everyone was safe and sound.

Having to sit around Headquarters while Harry was out on a mission gave Ron a new appreciation for Ginny. His sister was always forced to stay behind, and he had never truly realized how frustrating and nerve-wracking it could be until then. The entire night, in the back of his mind, he was wondering what Harry and Ginny were doing at that moment. He wondered if they had any trouble getting into the Ministry. He wondered if Ginny had been discovered. He wondered if they had met any unexpected trouble along the way, and if anyone was injured – after all, they did not have the best track record when it came to the Department of Mysteries.

While Harry and Ginny were upstairs listening to the prophecy, Ron's curiosity nearly got the best of him. He squirmed in his chair, knowing that Harry and Ginny deserved to hear it first – alone – but also dying to know what it said. It was no secret that this prophecy, much like the last one, would greatly influence the rest of the war.

What if Ginny was in danger because of this?

If Voldemort got wind of this prophecy – actually, Ron would be surprised if Voldemort hadn't heard at least a whispering of the news by now – would he come after Ginny?

But no – he had already come after Ginny. _Twice_.

Who was to say it wouldn't happen a third time?

Ron was suddenly enveloped by the strongest sense of protectiveness he'd ever felt toward Ginny. Falling victim to a diary when she was eleven was an awful thing, but if Tom Riddle somehow found a way to hurt her _now _– Ron would die before he let it happen.

Hermione's hand touched his and he flinched. It was only then that he realized he'd been clutching onto the arm of his chair so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

'How long _is _this prophecy?' Ron muttered.

He suddenly heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and his sister appeared around the corner, followed closely by Harry. Right away, Ron could tell that something was … _off_.

Hermione must've sensed it, too. They exchanged looks and stood quickly.

'Is everything all right?' Hermione asked.

Ginny nodded. 'Yeah – yeah, fine.'

'Can we all listen to it now?' Ron asked.

He didn't miss the look that passed between his best friend and his little sister.

'What?' he asked.

Harry just smiled. And Ron had been around him enough to know that it was forced.

'Sure,' he said. 'Ginny and I wrote it down. I'll read it.'

He began, but McGonagall cut him off.

'Not so fast,' she said. 'We need to go to Hogwarts and alert Albus of this before anyone else hears what the prophecy has to say.'

Ron frowned but said nothing. He followed everyone through the fireplace to Hogwarts, and then up to Dumbledore's office, where the rest of the portraits began grumbling about being woken up.

'Before we begin,' Dumbledore said. 'I am afraid that I will need to speak with Harry and Miss Weasley alone. As I do not have the luxury of moving about as I once did, would you all be so kind as to step out for a moment?'

……………………………………………………………

Albus motioned to the two seats at his desk and Harry and Ginny took them. Once everyone else had gone, he spoke. 'Harry,' he began. 'Do you recall a conversation we had, not very long ago, in which you asked me about my other portraits?'

Harry furrowed his brow. 'Er – yes,' he said. 'You said that there was one in a place called Spinner's End, and another one –'

'In Grimmauld Place, yes,' the portrait said. 'I am willing to bet that neither of you have ever been in the room you used tonight to listen to the prophecy. You see, there was a reason that Minerva brought you to that particular room.'

He heard Harry curse softly under his breath, and knew that the boy understood.

'So – you heard, then,' Harry said finally. Ginny's mouth dropped open. 'You heard everything, didn't you?'

'I did, indeed.'

'You know that the prophecy we plan on reading to everyone isn't the real one?'

Albus nodded. 'I am truly sorry,' he said, 'but I cannot allow you to share your fabricated prophecy with the others. You will need to tell the truth.'

'And if we don't want to?' Harry said.

'I also heard what the prophecy said,' Albus said. 'And if you do not wish to share the contents, I will simply have to do it for you.'

'Professor,' Ginny said. '_Please_, can't you reconsider? Put yourself in our shoes.'

'I cannot lie to the Order, Miss Weasley,' said Albus. 'To be quite honest, I am rather displeased to find that either of you _would_.'

'We're sorry – _very _sorry. We just … We don't agree with what the prophecy says.'

'You said it yourself,' Harry piped up. 'A prophecy is only true if we make it true.'

'To an extent,' said Albus. 'Harry, surely you must realize how dangerous withholding the truth from me could have been.'

Harry looked down. 'I did what I had to,' he said. 'You told me over and over that love is what I need to beat Voldemort. I _have _that now. And now this stupid prophecy is saying – what? – that I _can't _love Ginny because she's going to become a – a traitor? That's ridiculous. How do we even know that this prophecy wasn't just made up by someone on Voldemort's side?'

Albus clasped his hands together. Though he did not agree with Harry's decision to lie, he could not deny that he understood the boy's need to protect Ginny Weasley. Harry Potter had been through so much – and there would be so much more to come, of course – that Albus often forgot the boy's experiences in the magical world spanned a mere six years.

Ginny Weasley had asked Albus to put himself in their shoes, but the truth of the matter was that Albus had once been in Harry Potter's place. He remembered quite well the burden that was an uncertain destiny. Tom Riddle was not the first of his kind. Before there was Lord Voldemort, there had been Grindelwald. And before there was Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, there was Albus Dumbledore, and it had been up to him to eliminate the evil that threatened their world.

'In a moment, I am going to ask you to go and tell Minerva that everyone is allowed back into this office,' Albus said, ignoring Harry's question. 'Once this happens, one of us will recite the prophecy – the true prophecy. It is up to you to decide whether it is you or I who will disclose this information.'

Harry's jaw clenched; as though with great difficulty, he ripped the piece of paper in half.

The knowledge and insight Albus Dumbledore could offer Harry was, quite clearly, of no interest to the boy. And, in truth, Albus was not certain he wanted offer Harry his assistance in this sense. For Albus had learned that one needed to learn some things on their own.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny didn't think she'd ever been this nervous in her life.

Having to make up a prophecy and lie to everyone was one thing. Having to tell the _truth _– and, really, there was no way to gauge how everyone would take that truth – was a whole other thing entirely.

Would her mother cry?

Would Hermione try, somewhat pointlessly, to make perfect sense of everything?

She wondered what could be worse – a bad reaction, or no reaction at all.

It was no secret that many of her brothers did not like her relationship with Harry. Few of them seemed to realize that if anyone was going to be able to protect her, it was him.

Bill was mostly involved in his own life at the moment – he had a new wife, after all, and he was still somewhat recovering from what had happened to him at Hogwarts.

But, despite her efforts to remain blissfully unaware, she was certain that Charlie disapproved of her being with Harry. She had been picking up on the looks he'd been giving her for weeks now. She didn't know if it was because _Harry Potter_ had become just another synonym for _danger_, and she was now tied to that danger, or because Charlie was her big brother and didn't want to think that she was with _any _boy, Ginny couldn't tell.

Being that Percy had only just come back to the family, he was not in any position to lecture Ginny or anyone else in any way, and he knew it. Still, Ginny was sure that he had his opinions. If there was one thing she had learned about Percy while growing up, that was it. He _always _had opinions. On everything. Even when nobody was asking him.

The twins made a lot of jokes, but Ginny knew that they were actually quite protective of her, underneath everything. She had heard them discussing her once before, when they hadn't realized that she was there. They spoke of her in a way that, had it been anyone else, would have infuriated her. But because it was them, she had just smiled and then walked away.

And Ron, well, there was no wondering on this one. He made it awfully clear how he felt about his baby sister and his best friend. As long as they didn't kiss or touch or do any of that fun stuff, Ron was happy that they were together.

'You ready?' Harry asked her, as everyone came back into the office.

She could only manage a feeble nod. Reaching into her bra, she pulled out another small piece of paper – on this one, they had written the correct prophecy, so they could look at it later and scrutinize it away from prying eyes.

Ginny hated that she would not even have enough time to make sense of these words before her family got to hear them as well.

Still, she cleared her throat and read the words that she had hastily jotted down not thirty minutes before. When she was finished, she avoided looking up by keeping her eyes on the paper, until finally the words began to blur together.

'Let's do this one line at a time,' Lupin suggested, and Ginny thought that was a smashing idea. He motioned for her to re-read the first line.

'_The one with the power is unforeseen and unsuspecting_,' Ginny read.

'The power?' Fred said.

'That must be referencing the first prophecy,' Harry said. He looked at McGonagall. 'Right?'

McGonagall nodded. 'Yes,' she said. 'Indeed, it does sound that way.'

'_She is the beginning and the end, for only together can the truth power be harnessed_,' Ginny read.

'This "_one_" must be you, Ginny,' Percy said. 'It says _she_, and you're the only female whose name is on the prophecy. And – unforeseen and unsuspecting. It certainly sounds correct.'

Ginny agreed with this, too. For who in their right might _would_ suspect that little Ginny Weasley could be holding the fate of the wizarding world in the palm of her hand?

'_But_,' Ginny began, and then swallowed thickly, '_the Dark Light is forever lurking inside, and she is the one who shall be led astray once more, and only too late will it be discovered_.'

Mr Weasley frowned. 'The Dark Light,' he said. 'Could that mean Tom Riddle? He was the one who … _led her astray _… before.'

'Probably,' Harry said.

'Wait,' Mrs Weasley said dubiously. 'Am I to believe that my daughter has a part of Lord Voldemort inside of her? And that he's going to turn her into a traitor? That's _ridiculous_.'

Was it?

Ginny could not deny that the voice inside of her head was sometimes not her own.

'May we have the next line, please?' McGonagall requested. Clearly, for the time being, not one of them was prepared or willing to address the issue of Ginny turning to the Dark side.

'_But either must die at the hand of the other, and redemption must be found in the purest of sacrifices, for only then can goodness prevail_.'

'The first part, again, goes back to the original prophecy,' Harry said. 'It's nearly word for word.'

Nobody disputed this. Instead, Charlie spoke up: 'What is this sacrifice? And who is going to be making it?'

He threw a rather nasty glance at Harry, and Ginny felt suddenly, inexplicably compelled to draw her wand and Bat-Bogey Hex her brother until he wiped that awful look off of his face.

'A pure sacrifice …' Hermione said. 'There are only a few things that it can be.'

'What are they?'

'Well,' said Hermione, and Ginny felt certain that this information was to be quoted directly from a book her friend had read in the Library. 'For a sacrifice to be pure, it must be something that is difficult for the doer to complete, but something that nobody would ever ask him or her to do.'

'How is that any different from a regular old sacrifice?'

'A _pure _sacrifice,' she continued, 'has to involve _pure _emotions. What purer emotion is there than love? This isn't like being cold because you took off your jacket to give to a shivering girl, or cutting back on luxury items because money is tight. It isn't about doing something because you feel a sense of duty. It's about doing something because you want to. Think about the things that you would gladly do for a loved one that you wouldn't do for someone you merely liked – or hardly knew, for that matter.'

'Dying,' Ron said.

Hermione nodded. 'When you attempted to save Ginny,' she said, 'that was a pure sacrifice. See the difference? You wouldn't die for the person behind you in line at the Ministry, but you would die for the person across from you at the dinner table.'

'What about when Harry almost died to save that girl?' George asked.

Hermione smiled at Harry. 'Well, there are extraordinary circumstances that cancel this out. But dying for a stranger is incredibly rare.'

'Nobody is dying for anybody,' Mrs Weasley said sternly.

'Least of all Ginny,' Bill added.

Several people in the room nodded at this, and Ginny wondered if any of them realized that if it came down to living without Harry or dying so Harry could live, she would choose the second option in a heartbeat.

……………………………………………………………

Harry fell back against his bed and sighed. He was so exhausted that he could barely stand. He had been awake for well over twenty-four hours. His body needed sleep, but his mind was screaming for him to stay up and examine this prophecy more thoroughly. He felt that there was something more to it than he was seeing, and if he could just find a new way to approach the subject, he'd be able to figure out what it all meant. Or maybe this was just wishful thinking, and he should ask Hermione in the morning.

He wondered if he and Ginny should tell Hermione about their newfound connection. Having all the facts would certainly make it easier for Hermione to help them.

He spent longer on his Occlumency tonight than he normally did, but then again, he had more pressing on his mind than he normally did.

At last, he closed his eyes and felt himself drifting off to sleep.

There was a soft _pop _somewhere to his right. Whoever was Apparating into Charlie's old bedroom to disturb him was certainly not welcome at this moment in time. Groaning, and refusing to open his eyes, he grumbled out, '_What_?'

'Get up,' Hermione said quickly. 'We have to get to Headquarters _now_.'

Harry sat up. 'Why? What happened?'

There was another _pop_, and Ron appeared beside Hermione.

'There's an attack at the Ministry,' Hermione said.

'McGonagall thinks Voldemort might be there,' Ron added.

Reaching down deep and finding the energy he needed to get out of bed, Harry jumped up and began pulling on the closest pair of trousers he could find.

There was something else, something that Hermione and Ron weren't telling him. He could feel it. One didn't grow up with two people without being able to tell when they weren't being completely honest.

'What else?' he asked.

Hermione hesitated. Then, she said: 'They went to Level Nine. The Department of Mysteries.'

……………………………………………………………

Hermione remembered, with impeccable detail, the last time she was at the Department of Mysteries.

She remembered how the air had been charged that night, how everything had seemed to move in slow motion, how her senses had been so acute that she could sense every breath Ron took beside her.

She remembered the fight and the injury and the overwhelming danger of the situation. She remembered how they had broken countless rules by sneaking out of school, as well as by breaking into the Ministry. She remembered how all six of them had nearly died that night.

She remembered that she had _never _felt that alive, not before and probably not even since.

She had argued with Ron nearly every single day, but she had never been in a true _fight_, with wands, before the end of her fifth year. In fact, up until then, she (and Ron) had mostly sat on the sidelines while Harry fought it out.

She knew that she was a valuable member of their trio, and that she contributed things that nobody else could – knowledge and rationality and sober thought.

But despite this, it was Harry getting the Stone at the end of first year, and it was Harry saving Ginny at the end of their second. Third year hadn't been a fight so much as it had been a long, giant misunderstanding between _everyone_. It was Harry in fourth year, pulled through a Portkey while Ron and Hermione sat in the stands and wondered why nobody had come out of the maze yet.

But fifth year, they had taken a more active, aggressive role. True, both she and Ron hadn't lasted very long in the battle, but that was beside the point. Really, if it hadn't been for the Order and Dumbledore, even Harry wouldn't have lasted past that night.

'Ready?'

At Ron's words, Hermione was brought back to the present. They were standing in a spot they'd stood in just over one year ago, after their Thestral ride but before they had encountered the veil.

'Yeah,' she said. She clutched her wand.

……………………………………………………………

The words _Kill the spare _echoed in Harry's mind, and he wondered why the hell Ginny was with them right now.

They'd all scrambled out of the house and rushed out to the Ministry as quickly as they could, and amidst all the excitement, nobody had thought to ask why Ginny wasn't staying at Headquarters.

This was so bad. Harry couldn't even _believe _that this was happening. It was no coincidence that Voldemort and his Death Eaters had come to the Department of Mysteries mere hours after Harry, Ginny and the Order had.

They had gotten wind of the prophecy. They must have. But how? _Who_?

Was there a snitch within the Order?

Harry knew the answer before he'd even asked the question. Of course there wasn't.

In truth, Harry had been somewhat suspicious of Percy when he suddenly decided to "return to the family". But Percy seemed generally remorseful about the way he'd treated his parents, and the way he'd turned his back on everyone. Harry had never really held Percy in high regard, but he knew better than to think that even _he_ was capable of being a spy for Voldemort.

So, ruling out the Order, _how _could Voldemort have known?

Did he send someone to spy, like he had when the first prophecy was made, and the person had overheard again? If that was the case, Harry wondered how much of this second prophecy had been passed to Voldemort. Had he heard it all? Or had he only heard a portion of it, like last time?

What would happen when it was discovered that the prophecy had already been taken from the Department of Mysteries and listened to?

Or was it possible that Voldemort didn't have any clue there was a prophecy with Harry and Ginny's name on it?

Could he be looking for something else?

……………………………………………………………

There was a rule at Hogwarts that teachers and students were not allowed to be romantically involved in any way. Hermione believed that this rule was a necessity. Granted, most of the teachers at Hogwarts were old or dull or unattractive, or any combination of those three.

But every now and again, a teacher came along who had beautiful hair and straight, white teeth, and a smile that could turn a student into a puddle of goo on the floor.

Lockhart, for example.

This rule was in place for several reasons. Primarily, it was because teachers could not be biased, and any student who was, er, getting _private _lessons from a teacher was likely to receive marks higher than what they deserved.

Favouritism, it was called.

And favouritism applied to several things, not just in class.

While patrolling, she and Ron had often caught Harry or Ginny or Seamus outside of Gryffindor Tower after hours, but instead of deducting house points or giving them a detention, Ron would send them off without a warning. And Hermione rarely said anything about it.

In the workplace, office romances were discouraged. Dating a co-worker could get in the way of your work, especially if you had a messy break up. Being involved with an employee meant that you might give them the more popular jobs, or the promotions that others deserved.

But in war, when the person you loved was _facing death_, you were far more likely to favour them.

Hermione experienced this firsthand when battle broke out, and instead of going to help Moody, who was struggling to fight four Death Eaters at once, she went to Ron, who was easily handling two.

It would not be until much later, when Hermione would discover Moody's fate, that she would wonder if she should have gone to him instead.

By the time she got across the room to Ron, she was out of breath and had nearly been Stunned twice.

But it was a good thing that Hermione _did _go to Ron, because just as both Death Eaters went down, a third came up behind him, giving him no time to react.

'_Avada _–'

It felt as if everything was happening at once, but it was all moving in slow motion, and Hermione could see two and three moves ahead of herself.

She saw herself raising her wand and crying out, and then she was doing it, touching on something she'd never even known was inside of her –

'_Crucio_!'

The person screamed, and there was a voice in her head telling her to stop, but she didn't. She didn't want to. Nobody was taking Ron away. Nobody was even going to attempt it. Not if she had anything to say about it.

For a split-second, she wondered if she had just lowered herself to the Death Eaters' level. Still, she did not let up.

'_Hermione_.'

Ron grabbed her and pulled the wand out of her hand.

She felt as though she had just been slammed back into her own body, as though she had been someone else just now. Suddenly the energy was draining from her, the overwhelming feelings flowing out of her, and she was left looking at Ron with wide eyes.

'I … just …' she said.

There was a loud scream, and Hermione would have paid it no attention, except that she knew who it was.

'Ginny,' Ron said, looking around desperately.

Finally, they spotted her; she was fighting against the Death Eater that was restraining her, and then, before anyone could react, she was dragged out of the room and down a corridor.

Then they saw Harry taking off after her.

……………………………………………………………

Something was wrong with this. Harry could feel it. But what was he supposed to do? Not go after Ginny because of a _weird_ _feeling_?

'Harry!'

It was Ron.

'Where'd she go?'

He didn't know. But it was too much effort to speak – all of his energy was going toward finding Ginny – so he communicated his confusion by looking around wildly.

Could he use wandless magic to find her? Honestly, he didn't even know how he would go about that, so he figured it probably wasn't smart to waste time trying.

'Harry! Help!'

It was Ginny. He felt the same sense of terror grip his heart, but he also got the same strange feeling that he was walking into yet another trap.

'This way,' Ron said, and they took off in the direction from where Ginny's voice was coming.

The second Harry turned the corner and spotted her, standing by herself in the middle of the darkened room, he knew what the problem was.

If Ginny needed him, and needed him to find her, why wouldn't she use their connection to tell him where she was? And why wouldn't she –

_Ginny_?

_Yeah_?

_Where are you_?

_With Tonks_._ She's hurt_ _and I'm guarding her_.

_So you're fine_? _You're not with Ron and me right now_?

_I don't even know where you and Ron are _– _why_? _What's wrong_?

_It's nothing_. _I'll explain later_. _Just _– _please_ _be careful_.

'Ron,' Harry whispered. 'That's – that's not Ginny.'

'What?' Ron cried. 'What d'you mean? Of course it is!'

'No,' insisted Harry. 'It's not. It's a Polyjuice.'

'Harry –'

'Don't go near her.'

Ron stepped forward, toward who he thought was his sister, and Harry reached out to pull him back again.

'It's a trap,' he hissed. Harry would run to Ginny and then Voldemort would appear and kill Ron, and then make Harry duel him. Or perhaps he had learned from previous mistakes, and would simply do away with Harry the moment he got his chance. 'Ginny's not in trouble. This isn't her.'

Ron spun around and stared at Harry as if he had three heads. 'How do you _know _that?'

The person pretending to be Ginny reached into her robes and pulled out a wand. Pointing it at Ron's back, she said: '_Cruc_—'

'_Stupefy_!' Harry cried out, shooting the spell over Ron's shoulder at the stranger. Ron looked bewildered.

'How could you – how could you tell?'

Harry did not want to explain that, especially not here. 'C'mon,' he said instead. 'Let's get back.'

They both looked over each other's shoulders as they ran back to the fight, but along the way, Harry caught sight of something that was far more pressing that any battle in the Department of Mysteries.

'I'll catch up to you,' he said.

'What?'

'Go back to the fight,' said Harry. 'I'll be right there.'

'Where're you going?'

'I _said _I'll catch up to you.'

Ron stared at him, long and hard, before leaving.

Once he was gone, Harry rushed off after Draco.

……………………………………………………………


	37. Avada Kedavra

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Avada Kedavra  
**……………………………………………………………

Draco waited, but even after several minutes, he didn't hear the telltale sounds of battle. He cursed, feeling himself beginning to panic. Had Potter and Weasley figured out it was a trap, that it was really Pansy Parkinson under all that ugly red hair and freckles?

For a fleeting second, he let himself be concerned over Pansy. What would happen to her? Would Potter torture her for information? After all, Draco had learned not to put anything past Harry Potter when it came to Ginny Weasley.

But then the second was up, and Draco did what he did best – began to focus on himself again.

He couldn't afford another failure. What would the Dark Lord do when he found out that Draco had messed up again? It was nothing short of a miracle that the Dark Lord had spared him after the fiasco at Hogwarts. The only reason he was still involved was because his father was continuously promising that Draco would learn, that it would be smart for the Dark Lord to keep him around because one day he would be a better, more loyal servant than anyone had ever been before.

But Draco didn't think he could be a loyal servant. Truthfully, he could not imagine living the life his father lived. In and out of Azkaban. Never knowing when the Dark Lord would grow angry and do away with him.

He didn't want that. In fact, he wasn't even sure he wanted to _fight _anymore. All throughout Hogwarts, he had anticipated the day he could finally become a Death Eater. He had dreamt about the day he would get the chance to earn his Dark Mark.

_Battle _and _murder _and _power _had once been words that enticed him beyond all else. He was still up for the power. But battle?

These battles were different than the silly encounters he'd had with Weasley and Potter in the corridors at school. They were different than the duel he'd challenged Potter to in their first year. Here, he didn't have Crabbe and Goyle to protect him. He was on his own, and as he was discovering, he wasn't as gifted with a wand as he'd once thought. Perhaps paying attention in class (something he'd done only in Potions so he didn't miss it when Snape pointed out Potter's mistakes or nearly reduced Granger to tears) would have been an idea at least worth entertaining.

And murder – he hadn't even been able to go through with killing Dumbledore, a senile old man who played for the other team, one that he did not like, or even respect.

If Snape had had to bail him out then, what would happen next time?

Draco had spent most of his life thinking – _knowing _– that he was on a higher level than everyone around him. He was a Malfoy, after all. His name alone communicated everything. He always got what he wanted because of who his father was.

But the Dark Lord didn't care about who his father was. And Harry Potter's side certainly didn't care about that. He could be killed just as quickly as Weasley – and look at who _his _father was. It seemed that there was no way out of this mess this time.

Draco did one of the few things he seemed to do well anymore – he fled. Perhaps if he found a way to get home before he was caught, he would have enough time to pack a bag and disappear forever. He might even be able to convince his mum to come with him. After all, his mum was in just as much danger as he was. They were all guilty by association. Lucius Malfoy's involvement with the Dark side had pretty much sealed all three of their fates years and years ago. And the Dark Lord had threatened to have his mum killed unless Draco succeeded in capturing Potter, which Draco now knew he could not.

Draco ran, but spun around when he heard footsteps behind him. A pair of strong hands wrapped around his forearms and he was shoved against the wall.

It took him a moment before he realized who he was looking at.

'What did I say before?' Harry Potter spat.

He said nothing. He knew very well what Potter was talking about.

'_What did I say before_?'

He was vaguely aware of how pitiful he was. Of all the ways to meet his end … having it delivered to him by _Harry Potter _was possibly the last way he would have chosen.

He wondered if Potter would be too noble and too good to actually carry through on his promise to kill him. Even after everything, Potter was still a bloody saint. He really wouldn't be able to live up to his promise of killing Draco, would he? Sometimes, Potter was downright sickening, but this time, Draco was holding his breath and praying for Potter's mercy.

But he recognized the look in Potter's eyes. It was the same one he used to see when he looked in the mirror.

……………………………………………………………

'P-please,' Malfoy choked out, nearly sobbing.

It was pathetic, but then again, so was he.

'Please don't ki—'

'_Shut up_!' Harry yelled. He wasn't even sure what he was really about to do, but he felt certain that he wouldn't be able to do it if Malfoy verbalized it.

There was no question in Harry's mind that he could do … this. But did he want to?

It was almost as if he had risen out of his body and was now floating several feet in the air, looking down on himself and Malfoy.

And he saw it, as clear as day:

Draco Malfoy was a boy who had been, quite unfortunately, caught up in this war. He was trying as best he could to survive another day.

Malfoy hadn't chosen to be born into the role of Voldemort's follower any more than Harry had been chosen to be born into the role of Voldemort's conqueror. But Harry was going to rise to the occasion, because _there was nothing else for him_. And Draco – well, perhaps there was nothing else for him, either.

In reality, he was hardly any different from Harry.

As Harry was beginning to learn, nothing was ever as it seemed. There was no black or white, only grey. And the line between right and wrong could often be blurred, or even washed away entirely.

This war – this _life _– was as much about the things you did as it was about the things you did not do. The choices made and the actions executed were just as important as the desires stifled and the impulses ignored.

Who was he to decide what was right and what was wrong?

Harry's perspective was different from Malfoy's or Wormtail's or Scrimgeour's or even Ginny's. No one else was the one destined for heroism, like Harry. No one else felt the burden and pressure he experienced daily. But then again, nobody else was living Malfoy's life.

Harry knew that his side was the right side. But if he was Malfoy, would he not think that Voldemort was the answer to the world's problems? Or would he not, at the very least, hold his tongue and follow his orders?

But that, therein itself, lay the problem. Malfoy might have thought that what he did was right, but at this current moment in time, Harry was the one in position to decide who was right and who was wrong.

And so he decided to do the most loving thing he thought he could do for someone like Malfoy – he decided to set him free.

He gritted his teeth and told himself, then and there, that he would not allow himself feel bad about this later on.

He'd seen the curse several times before, but it had never seemed to glow as green as it did now, coming from the tip of his own wand.

……………………………………………………………

Several of the Order members, including Tonks and Lupin, needed to be treated by Audrey and Earl, so the meeting at Headquarters was postponed until after everyone was properly looked after.

This was fine with Harry. He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in three days. Hell, it was past lunch now and he hadn't even been to bed yet. He fancied a nap, and a cancelled Order meeting was exactly what he needed to get it.

He said nothing the entire way home, and would not open his mind to Ginny, though he could feel her trying to get in.

While the rest of the household stayed in the kitchen to eat the food Mrs Weasley was making, Harry slipped past them all and climbed the stairs to his room. Should he tell them what he had done? Or could they all tell? He felt as though there was a sign hanging above his head. Would they simply not want to know? If Mrs Weasley found out, would she kick him out of her house?

He wasn't completely blind. He picked up on the looks Ginny had been giving him. She was concerned, but she didn't know what he had done. If she _knew_, she wouldn't even look at him at all. At best, she would look at him the way she would look at a stranger. Or someone she detested.

He was carrying around a secret, one that he knew for certain he couldn't tell anyone. He could do it, too. He was very practiced at keeping large secrets, after all. But this secret felt as though it would kill him if he didn't get it off his chest, if he kept it tightly wrapped up and locked away, down deep inside of him.

He had attempted to get Ron's attention – he could tell Ron; Ron would understand and Ron wouldn't judge him and Ron wouldn't get that awful look on his face, the one he knew Hermione or Mrs Weasley or even Lupin would have if he confided in them, instead.

But Ron had been too preoccupied with an intense-looking conversation he was having with Hermione to notice that Harry needed him.

His hands felt dirty, and so the first thing he did was wash them. He scrubbed and scrubbed but the feeling didn't go away. It was as if something was stained onto his skin, something that only he could see. Or could the others see it too?

He looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw Ginny standing behind him.

'Mum asked me to come up to see if you wanted her to send you up anything to eat,' she said hesitantly.

'I saw Malfoy at the Ministry,' Harry said softly, hoping Ginny would understand what this meant.

She didn't. Or perhaps she did. But she said nothing, and Harry hoped it was because she didn't know what he meant, rather than she was too busy trying to come up with a way to get away from him that she was forgetting to speak.

'He's dead now,' he added. If she didn't understand this, he would just have to come up with another way. He couldn't say the actual words.

Ginny's eyes widened at the news of Malfoy's death, and then she gasped when she put two and two together and realized what Harry was implying. 'Did you do it?' she asked bluntly, before she could stop herself.

Well, at least she'd finally figured it out.

He looked down and said, 'Tell your mum not to bother. I'll be down shortly.'

He could feel her eyes on him for several more moments, and he could tell that she was struggling to say something – or to _not _say something. Finally, she left without another word. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He wondered what would happen next. He wondered about the Horcruxes, about the Final battle, about himself and Ginny. He felt as though his mind was operating on another level, but really, it was probably only because of a lack of sleep. Wasn't it?

He leaned toward the sink and splashed water on his face.

He could not deny the strange, unfamiliar surge of feeling he'd experienced earlier, after what had happened with Malfoy. It was unlike anything he'd felt before, even while doing wandless magic. This was … power.

He had felt responsible for everything that had happened to his parents and Sirius and Dumbledore and Ginny and Ron, but it was only after his meeting with Malfoy that he did realize the true weight and burden of murder.

Even so, strangely, Harry could not feel guilty about what he had done. If anything, he felt ashamed and even somewhat afraid, but not for the reasons for which he knew he should.

He had, to some degree, _enjoyed _the feeling, the rush, that had accompanied his encounter with Draco. So much so that he knew he would not be opposed to doing it again, if only to experience that same feeling.

But wasn't that completely sick and awful? Was a warning bell going off in his mind at this very moment?

He wondered if Tom Riddle had felt this way after his first kill.

_First _kill. There would be more. Harry nearly shuddered with delight at the thought.

He wondered if Riddle had become what he was – Lord Voldemort – because of this feeling. Hermione often said that Harry was ruled by his emotions. Was it possible to be ruled by _this_, as well? Would Harry head down the same path as Voldemort? He knew that he was probably overreacting … after all, it had only been one time. But wasn't that even more of a concern? It had only been once, and already, in the back of his mind, he was thinking about next time. What he would do differently. How it would feel. What he would say. Who it would be.

In Muggle storybooks, the heroes always triumphed, always overcame the evil and the countless temptations.

But was it possible for heroes to make the wrong choice, to become the very thing they were born to defeat? Just because those stories were never published and read to small children, did that mean it wasn't possible? That it never happened?

From time to time, was it really so hard to believe that the line between good and evil blurred so much that one did not even realize when he or she had crossed it?

What if the prophecy had gotten it wrong? What if it wasn't Ginny who would be led astray, but Harry?

He would do anything to protect Ginny and win this war, even if it meant getting his hands dirty in the process. But wasn't love supposed to save him in the end? Could it be possible that love would also be his destruction? With love, he knew that he would make it through this war. But what if the person he was when all was said and done wasn't who he'd started out as?

This newfound sense of euphoria was still rushing through his veins. Harry took a good, long look at himself in the mirror. His eyes were just as green as his mum's had been. And his hair was messy and always stuck up in the back, just like his dad's had.

His experiences growing up had never been truly influenced by his parents. Still, Sirius and Lupin had always said he'd received his good heart from his mother, and that Lily would be proud of how kind he could be. Harry knew that his dad was the reason he had such a knack for getting into troublesome situations. And he was willing to bet that it was not a coincidence that both he and his father had fallen in love with fiery, strong-willed women. These things had been handed down directly from his parents.

But then, as he continued to examine his reflection, his eyes came to rest on his scar. And Harry was forced to wonder, though not for the first time, if his parents were not the only people who had passed some of their traits onto him.

……………………………………………………………

Harry said nothing at Headquarters. He merely sat back and let Ron speak, listening as his friend described the trap involving a Polyjuiced-version of Ginny. He decided that his biggest concern, for the moment, was going to be trying to stay awake throughout this boring meeting.

Now, reflecting upon the events at the Department of Mysteries, he was relieved that he had actually recognized this trap for what it was. It appeared that his training with McGonagall was paying off more than he'd realized. Not only was she teaching him to harness and strengthen his magic, but she was also teaching him how to calm himself and properly assess critical situations with a clear, level head. He had certainly been able to do that today.

He knew he shouldn't give himself too much credit, though. It was his own fault that he and Ron had been tricked in the first place.

When it was first speculated that the other side could be planning on Polyjuicing Ginny, the girl had been forced to cut and highlight her hair. She had been given a bracelet that tracked her every move, which she was never supposed to take off.

After a while, Harry had begun to notice that Ginny hadn't been wearing her bracelet. On top of that, she had used a Glamour Charm to get rid of the highlights in her hair. Eventually, her hair had begun to grow longer, and it was now difficult to tell that she'd gotten it cut at all. With everything that had been going on around Headquarters and The Burrow, nobody else had seemed to notice that all the precautions they had taken to protect Ginny had been erased seemingly overnight.

Harry had noticed, of course, but he had made the decision not to say anything. Unless she was going to Headquarters, Ginny never even left The Burrow. How much trouble could she get into? Even if she _did _find herself in a sticky situation, Harry would be there to save her.

Had that girl posing as Ginny _really _been Ginny, Harry would have saved her. But what he hadn't ever considered before was that a Polyjuiced Ginny wouldn't put _her _in danger, it would put _everyone_ _else_ in danger. If he hadn't realized in time that it was a trap set up by Voldemort, he could have led Ron to his death tonight.

'So, Harry,' Lupin said. 'How were you able to tell that it wasn't really Ginny?'

It took Harry a moment to realize that Lupin was talking to him. 'I …' he said, and then felt himself begin to panic.

He knew that he couldn't reveal the true reason – he had known because he had used his connection with Ginny. He and Ginny had decided that they weren't going to tell anyone about this just yet, and he did not want to go back on that decision, even if it meant having to make up an answer.

'I know Ginny,' he said eventually. 'Maybe Mr and Mrs Weasley raised her, and maybe Ron and everyone else grew up with her, but I know her better than any of them. I could tell that it wasn't her. Something about that person pretending to be Ginny was all wrong, something that I can't put my finger on, even now. And on top of that, she was calling for help.' As he spoke, he realized that this was probably what had first caused him to be suspicious of what had been happening. 'You know, calling my name. Calling for me to come and save her. And the real Ginny would never have done that.'

Everything he had said – especially the part about knowing Ginny better than anyone else – had been true. But even as he spoke, he could not bear to look up and see what sort of expression was on Ginny's face. He had managed to avoid looking at her since their short conversation at The Burrow, and although he felt certain everyone had noticed that there was something going on with the pair, he didn't think anyone would dare bring it up at this moment in time.

Apparently, Lupin and the others seemed to accept his answer. Although Hermione – ever-brilliant Hermione – was giving him a look out of the corner of her eye that told him he'd have to answer a few more questions when they all returned to The Burrow.

The meeting gradually switched from the Polyjuice incident to other important matters, such as Moody. Apparently, the Auror had suffered rather extensive injuries, and had to be taken to St Mungo's for treatment. With an almost unnoticeable quiver in her voice, McGonagall told everyone that Moody's condition was critical, and that the Healers all said his chances of recovery did not look very promising.

……………………………………………………………

After Harry spent the entirety of dinner ignoring everyone by remaining silent and not looking up from his plate even once, he went up to Ginny's room and attempted to speak to her. He'd been a complete arse to her – and everyone – but she was supposed to forgive him. She loved him, didn't she? And to be honest, he was who he was. He'd never pretended to be anyone other than a miserable bastard. Shouldn't she have realized what a relationship with him would be like _ages ago_?

Besides, he forgave her every time she did something wrong. Although, really, when did she do something wrong? He could think of only a handful of times that she had apologized after an argument and had done it because she had been genuinely wrong.

He found that her door was slightly ajar, but he knocked anyway. 'Ginny?' he said. 'Can we talk?'

'Not now,' she said, and Harry nearly walked right in because he didn't even think for a moment that Ginny would say no. She always helped him when he needed her to.

'But Gin –'

'Please, just go away.'

'It's important, though.'

'I'm sure it is,' she told him, sounding slightly angered. 'Because with you, isn't everything important? You can't seem to take a breath without the Daily Prophet wanting to write about it, and I thought you realized how ridiculous that is, but I guess you don't. You're selfish, Harry. Today has not been one of your finer ones. Is it because you're tired? We're all tired. We're all running on no sleep – not just you. And yet the rest of us were able to carry out friendly conversation at dinner. The rest of us were able to act like human beings. You want to talk? Don't you think I wanted to talk earlier, after we got back from the fight and I tried so hard to get your attention? Don't you think I wanted to talk after I found out that I had been Polyjuiced, and that you and Ron had nearly been killed because of it?'

'I – yeah,' he said stupidly. 'I guess. So –?'

'So – I'm tired of you being so unavailable unless it suits your own purpose.'

'Are you – are you breaking up with me?' he asked finally.

'No,' she said slowly, but not so slowly that he had to wonder whether or not she'd been seriously considering it. 'But I'm hacked off at you right now. Really hacked off. And it doesn't mean that I don't want to talk later, about what you said before – about Malfoy. And while I realize that _that_ could be the reason you've been acting so cold today, it doesn't explain every other time you shut me out for some stupid reason or another. This is a pattern with you. One that I really wish you'd break.'

If she was waiting for an answer, she was going to be sorely disappointed, because Harry took a step back from the door and then trudged downstairs. He knew that she was right, that although he'd had things on his mind he'd still had no reason to treat everyone so poorly, but he was still angry with her for saying it.

He saw Ron, who was without Hermione for the first time all day, and although a part of him still wanted to talk about Malfoy, a larger part of him wanted to sulk. He knew that by sulking, he was being just as miserable and childish as Ginny had accused him of being, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want to help it.

'Are you all right, dear?' Mrs Weasley asked. She sounded concerned, even though he'd been acting like a prat to even her today, and he felt a wave of guilt hit him square in the chest.

'Er, yeah,' he said. 'I just want a little fresh air. I'll be outside.'

Mrs Weasley shook her head. 'Do you think it's wise to –?'

'Please?' Harry said. 'I'll only be only a few feet from the house. I have my wand. I just – I just need to see something other than four walls closing me in for a little while.'

She relented, but watched him through the kitchen window. He opened the door (after undoing the locks, which was rather time-consuming, actually) and stepped outside, feeling comfortable, finally, as the cool air of the night hit him.

……………………………………………………………

Harry was on the grass, staring up at the sky. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been outside for a reason other than one directly relating to an Order mission.

The air was cool – it was only days away from October, and the leaves on the trees were now falling to the ground in reds and yellows.

His head hurt. Or maybe his heart.

And for the very first time since this war began, Harry Potter honestly started to contemplate giving up.

It was a fleeting thought, as ludicrous as a Muggle thinking about witches and wizards, but it was there. _What if I just let Voldemort win_?And he had to admit that he was tired of fighting, of trying to be the hero, of having to protect everyone he cared about.

They all told him not to act like such a hero all the time, but really, wasn't that what they all _needed _from him? If he gave up, if he stopped playing that role, wouldn't they all die?

When was it going to be someone else's turn?

He looked up at the black sky and tried to count the stars, but hardly any were out.

There was only one that Harry could clearly see: directly above him, bright and twinkling, almost as though it was communicating through some sort of Morse code – _hang in there_.

He heard approaching footsteps. A moment later, Ginny lowered herself down onto the grass beside him, and then shifted, until she was flat on her back.

They stayed that way for quite some time, not speaking, but simply looking up at the sky. There was a thick silence between them, and the air around Harry felt charged with something he didn't quite comprehend. Ginny turned her head to look at him, her eyes saying, _I'll forgive you if you forgive me_. Harry felt around for her hand and clasped it in his own. As he was beginning to realize, he didn't always need to use their connection to understand Ginny.

She squeezed his hand with hers. He rolled onto his side and kissed her softly. They soon forgot themselves, though, and Ginny used her free hand – which was fisting the collar of Harry's shirt – to pull him over on top of her.

Their bodies pressed together, a startling fit, and Harry had to wonder, at least for a second or two, if it was possible that someone had created them with the another one in mind. He lowered his wall and when he felt Ginny do the same, he communicated his thought with her.

She laughed into his mouth and began pulling his shirt over his head, apparently ignoring his thoughts that they should not allow themselves to get carried away. She stopped – although they had managed to warm themselves up together, it was still rather cool outside, and so she allowed him to keep his clothes.

He attempted to roll away from her, but she following, the soft weight of her body pressing him to the ground. The hand that had been holding hers let go in search of more favourable resting spots. The noise coming from the back of Ginny's throat was enough to make him forget that they were in the middle of her backyard, and that if anyone looked out the window, they would probably be able to see what was going on outside.

The sound of Hedwig returning from her latest hunt registered in Harry's mind. He knew that someone would open a window to let her in, and he also knew that upon doing so, that person's attention would be drawn to the two figures snogging on the lawn.

_Let's go inside_.

They pulled away slightly and Harry looked up at Ginny. She really was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Just to the right of her, he could make out the same star he'd been looking at earlier. It was still blinking, but in a different pattern this time, delivering a new message.

If Hermione had been out there with them, she could have told him that the star he was looking at was called _Sirius_.

……………………………………………………………

**Don't forget to check out my new one-shots, _Scientist _and _Symbiosis_.**


	38. Progress

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**I realize that the last chapter was bound to upset a few people, but I think it was somewhat necessary. In my opinion, HBP (when it wasn't focusing on relationships and snogging) was all about the fleeting of innocence. Really, in a world where the _Daily Prophet _arrives and Ron has to ask "who's dead today?", what else do you expect? I agree that having Harry kill someone so soon, especially Malfoy, probably wouldn't happen in the books, but I feel I should remind some of you that this _isn't_ one of the books. While I can't tell you how flattering it is that people compare this little story to JKR's writing, I can assure you that the way things happen in this fic and the way I hope things happen in the seventh book are two extremely different things. Remember, above all, this is still a work of fan_fiction_. **

**I want to keep this story mainly about relationships but it's rather difficult to ignore that there is a war going on, and Harry has many responsibilities. I think the question "how far is everyone willing to go?" has many possible answers, and these are just mine. I'm not going to make Harry some hardcore murderer, or anything like that, but I'm at that stage where I can't realistically continue this without some of the Order getting hurt and dying, and how fair would it be if Harry and co didn't get in on the action at least once or twice? There _will _be necessary deaths in here, as well as murders, and many of them will probably be firsthand from some of our favourite good guys. If you don't like this, I really am sorry, but I think you should probably find another fic to read.**

**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Progress  
……………………………………………………………**

Upon hearing that Moody was most likely not going to recover, Hermione allowed herself a moment to feel guilty, and then closed her mind to the thought that she could have done something to prevent such a tragic event from taking place. Any one of the people fighting at the Department could have done something. She would never feel guilty for choosing Ron above all others.

But she _did _feel guilty about the other thing she had done. Had she really even done it? She clearly wasn't in the right state of mind when she'd pulled out her wand and used an _Unforgivable _– though, if anyone deserved it, it was a Death Eater.

She was an awful person now, wasn't she?

She'd spent her entire life establishing herself. She had a perfect, spotless record for doing everything right. And that was all shot to hell now, because she'd used one of the worst spells a person could use.

Merlin, the Ministry should just take her wand and erase her memory, so she could go back to being a regular Muggle, with no knowledge of the magical world or anyone in it.

She didn't deserve to be a witch. Magic was such a gift, and she'd taken it for granted by doing something so awful.

She shouldn't be allowed to go away with Ron and Harry to look for Horcruxes. She shouldn't be allowed to fight in this war.

She was supposed to be the one to keep Ron and Harry in line. She was supposed to maintain her sanity while everyone else went crazy. She was supposed to think rationally and weigh the consequences before each and every one of their actions. She was supposed to keep them all _alive_.

But it turned out that she sometimes leapt before she stopped and took a look around. She could have _killed _that Death Eater. Or worse, they could've ended up like the poor Longbottoms. How was she supposed to watch over Ron and Harry when she couldn't even control herself?

She'd once thought that killing another human being – no matter what side they were fighting on – was the worst thing a person could do. And surely it would mean no going back, that once someone had committed murder they could never be just a normal person.

Now, though, she knew differently. She suspected that many of the Order members, possibly even a Weasley or two, had used the Killing Curse in the past. She also suspected that by the time this war was over, Harry would be joining that list as well. The thought had once frightened her, caused her to worry so much that she could hardly think straight, let alone meet her best friend's eyes. Now, she was forced to wonder if _she _would end up on the same list.

Was this war making her hard? Or was she merely starting to realize just how much it would take to win?

She had to ask herself a very serious question. And she had to make an important decision.

How far was she willing to go?

She knew the answer before she even thought about it – she would go as far as she had to. She would do virtually _anything_. Even if it meant breaking every rule in the book and totally losing the old Hermione in the process.

And she refused to let herself feel bad about that.

……………………………………………………………

'Ron?' Harry whispered into the dark. 'You still awake?'

Ron's reply was a simple, 'Yeah.'

Although Harry had wanted to speak to Ron earlier, he had to admit that when he had whispered to Ron moments ago, he'd sort of hoped that Ron would have really been asleep.

'Can I talk to you for a second?'

'It's the middle of the night,' Ron said, but he didn't directly protest, so Harry assumed it was okay to say what was on his mind.

'Remember that Death Eater you told us about? Amycus?'

'Er, this is why you're keeping me up?' asked Ron. It was clear to Harry that Ron wasn't overly-enthusiastic about discussing this, but Harry really felt he needed to know what had happened.

'Yes,' Harry said. 'I need to know ... I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. Did you, y'know, kill him?'

'Yeah,' Ron said. 'Well, I mean, I guess I might have. I'm not sure.'

'You're not sure?' asked Harry. This wasn't the answer he'd expected. 'Didn't you use the –?'

'Nah,' said Ron. 'I didn't really – I mean, I didn't use _Avada Kedavra_, but I might as well have. He was tied up and the house was on fire ... I knew that if I didn't untie him, he'd – he'd die in there. But I Apparated out without helping him. He's dead now. I think people can consider that murder.'

'But what do _you _consider it?'

Ron hesitated a moment. 'I dunno,' he said. 'I haven't really thought about it.'

Harry knew that this was a lie. If Ron was anything like Harry – and he was – he'd obviously thought of nothing else until he'd reached a conclusion he could accept.

'Ron,' Harry said.

'I – fine,' said Ron. 'I reckon it counts as murder. What d'you think?'

'I think,' Harry said, 'that you did what you had to do.'

'Yeah,' Ron said, sounding pleased with this answer. 'Yeah, I did. And I'd do it again.'

It was silent for a long time, and Harry wondered if Ron had fallen asleep. Again, he was torn between feeling relieved and disappointed that he would not be able to discuss his dilemma with his best friend tonight.

'Why're you asking?' Ron inquired, breaking the silence, startling Harry.

'I – oh,' he said. 'It's just that – Malfoy died at the Department of Mysteries.'

'Yeah?' Ron said, and Harry could tell by his tone that he was waiting for the rest of the story.

'Yeah,' he said. 'I mean, I – I followed him after the whole Ginny thing and – I pressed my wand to his neck and I said it. _Avada Kedavra_. I _said it_. I killed him.'

Ron's bed creaked. Harry squinted in the darkness and was able to make out Ron's silhouette, sitting up in his bed.

'Good,' Ron said harshly.

'You don't think that I ... I dunno ... overreacted?'

'I think that Malfoy was a bastard. A despicable, evil little ferret,' said Ron. 'He called Hermione a Mudblood and made fun of my family, and it seemed like his sole purpose in life was to give you a hard time. He's the reason Dumbledore is dead! I think that he was the nastiest person I've ever had the displeasure of meeting, and if I were you, I would've done the same thing in a second. So if you're asking me all these questions about Amycus because you feel guilty about what you did – you shouldn't. Because Malfoy would just love to know that you're beating yourself up inside over him.'

Harry felt himself smile. 'Thanks, Ron,' he said. And when he closed his eyes, he found that this time, he was finally able to get to sleep.

……………………………………………………………

It was a morning near the end of October when Charlie began noticing how much he had missed in his absence.

It was no secret that he had spent the better part of the last ten years living in Romania, only coming home when he could, which was not very often. He had missed quite a few important moments in his siblings' lives. He hadn't been around to comfort Ginny after the Chamber of Secrets incident, and he hadn't been waiting up all night at Grimmauld Place with the rest of them when their father had been attacked by the snake. He'd been in Romania when Ginny and Ron were in the hospital after the Department of Mysteries, as well as when Ron had been poisoned on his birthday. He was the only one not there at Hogwarts the night the Death Eaters had invaded and Bill had been hurt.

Charlie loved his job. But he loved his family, too. And it was fair to say that when he'd had to choose between the two, he often chose his job. Sometimes, though, it wasn't his choice. He was a grown man now, with a career and a life independent from The Burrow, and he had certain responsibilities. He couldn't just leave and come home at the drop of a hat, not even now, in the middle of a war. He'd taken a long leave of absence so he could devote himself to working in Romania with the Order, which had paid off completely, because Harry and the others had been able to find a Horcrux there.

Because of all this, though, he sometimes felt rather detached from his family. He assumed that Bill felt this as well, and knew that Percy, who had only just come back to the family, must feel this way too. In the past few years, Charlie had only been home a handful of times. Percy hadn't turned out as loyal as hoped, and Charlie wondered if it would have been different if Percy had had the influence of his two eldest brothers at home during his last few years at Hogwarts. The twins had been different each time he'd seen them, and if it were possible, even more devious than before. Ron kept getting taller and taller, and more in love with Hermione every year. And Ginny – if it hadn't been for the Weasley hair, Charlie wouldn't have even recognized her when he'd come home this time.

As if on cue, Ginny and Hermione came down the stairs and entered the kitchen.

'Morning,' Ginny said, smiling brightly at him before sitting down on the opposite side of the table.

An owl arrived with the _Daily Prophet_, and Charlie read it as Mrs Weasley served breakfast. The delicious smell must have been strong enough to reach Ron's bedroom, because Ron and Harry quickly appeared.

Charlie recognized Ginny then, because of the look on her face when Harry came into sight. She looked exactly like the little girl she used to be, obsessing over the legend of Harry Potter. He sat down beside her and kissed her cheek, whispering something in her ear that Charlie didn't hear, and perhaps he didn't want to hear.

Charlie did not spend as much time with Harry Potter as the rest of his family did, and so he was slightly more objective when it came to Harry's relationship with Ginny, his baby sister, his _only sister_.

He wasn't quite sure whether he approved of it or not. Granted, he was aware that he'd never think anyone was good enough for Ginny, and that if anyone was going to make her happy, it was Harry. But he was more realistic than his mum, who said that their relationship was "harmless", and he was apparently more concerned with Harry's intentions that his father, who said that "Harry was a perfectly respectable young man" ...

Harry might've been _harmless _and _respectful _in everyday life, but he was seventeen. Clearly, Arthur had forgotten what it felt like to be seventeen and randy beyond belief.

Charlie hadn't. All the good intentions in the world couldn't stop Harry from being a teenage bloke with a pulse. It wasn't all that long ago that he had been in Harry's position, after all. Well, as close to Harry's position as one could get without actually being the boy being hunted down by one of the Darkest wizards ever.

And wasn't that just another reason why Harry shouldn't be so closely attached to Ginny?

Bloody hell, Ginny had been _captured by Death Eaters _because of her relationship with Harry. And now this whole prophecy thing ... It all seemed to spell disaster.

Everyone around The Burrow tried to be optimistic and supportive, always saying things like _when the war is over_. But nobody ever seemed to stop and realize that this war was not going to be won on hopes and dreams and positive thinking. There was a very real chance that many people were going to die. That _Harry _was going to die.

Being that Charlie wasn't as close to Harry as everyone else, it was easier for him to accept that Harry would probably not make it out of this war alive. Voldemort would be defeated – that was something Charlie allowed himself to hope for. He was willing to pay the ultimate price if it meant the difference between victory and defeat. This was something that he knew Harry was willing to do, as well. And though nobody ever spoke of it, Charlie was fairly sure his family all knew – or at least suspected – that Harry would _have_ to pay this price.

In a perfect world, the Harry Potters would live. But in a perfect world, there would be no wars to begin with.

They were living in dark times, and the sooner everyone realized it, the better. Still, Charlie did not have the heart to tell his sister this.

What would he say?

_Hey_,_ sis_, _try not to get too attached to your boyfriend_. _Word on the street is that he won't make it to his eighteenth birthday_.

She would castrate him.

He loved all of his siblings equally, but he had always been most protective of Ginny. Perhaps it was because she was the youngest, or maybe even because she was the only girl. But whatever the reason, he'd always taken care of her. Bill had been gone by the time Ginny was at an impressionable age, and Percy had been too wrapped up in studying to worry about her. Ron and the twins had never seemed to realize that Ginny was their sister and that they should be nice to her, because one day they would grow up and want to be closer with her. He'd stuck up for her with the twins. He used to take her for rides on the back of his broom. He'd been the one to put a bandage on her when she'd fallen and scraped her knee.

And now – she was really the only Weasley sibling who intimidated the twins, and she went for flies alone on her own broom, and when she fell, she would just stand up and dust herself off.

She had not just matured mentally, either. She had always been a cute little kid, and now she was a beautiful young woman. At the wedding, all of the teenage boys on Fleur's side of the family (and, disturbingly enough, even a few on their own side) had stared at Ginny with lust in their eyes. It was sick to think of his baby sister as _sexy_, and the fact that boys and men looked at her that way made him want to start taking names.

Ginny was chatting away now with Fred. Charlie watched as she picked up a plate of flatcakes and absentmindedly put one on Harry's plate, and Harry refilled her now-empty glass with pumpkin juice. They smiled at each other, and Charlie marvelled at the way they were so in sync with one another. The only two people he'd ever seen work that way before were his parents, and even that was rare.

George told an off-color joke and through the laughter, some of the pumpkin juice Harry was drinking dribbled down his front. Though Ginny was turned the other way, talking to Hermione, she picked up a napkin and turned back to Harry. She leaned closer to him and wiped his shirt, and because she was still wearing her summer pajamas, she was probably giving him quite the view down her shirt.

But Charlie noticed that Harry's eyes stayed on her face. And what was more, the look in his eyes was not that of lust. It was love, and in some way, this bothered Charlie more than anything else.

Their relationship wasn't _cute _or _innocent_. They were in love. Merlin, how had Charlie missed it before?

They were young – too young – to be feeling the way they obviously did. Most people probably waited their wholes lives for someone they could find love with. And, of course, his poor sister had to find it right away. With Harry Potter, the Chosen One. The boy who, if they were all completely honest with themselves, surely everyone knew would not be around in a year.

He vowed that when this was all over, he would be there to pick up the pieces and glue her back together.

He only hoped that the glue would hold.

……………………………………………………………

Hermione was reading a book on her bed when Ron knocked on the door.

'Um, hey,' he said. She closed her book and waved him in. 'I got kind of bored downstairs ... I mean, I can only annihilate Harry at chess so many times ...'

Hermione smiled. 'He is rather bad at it, isn't he? Even _I _can beat him now.'

'You can? That _is _bad,' he teased, sitting down beside her on her bed. 'I like to give him a hard time about it. Since when is Harry bad at something? That's almost as foreign as _you _being bad at something.'

'I'm bad at a lot of things!' she insisted. 'And Harry is, too. He wasn't exactly top of the class at school.'

'Yeah, but school doesn't count.'

'Honestly, Ron, how we do in life is decided by how well we do in school!' she lectured. 'I've been telling you for six years that you can't slack off because you'll regret it later, and you never seem to listen to me. How do you think –?'

Her voice died away as Ron leaned forward and kissed her. He pulled back a moment later and grinned. 'Looks like I finally found an off-switch for your lecturing,' he declared. 'Now, why didn't I think of that back in fifth year when you were going totally crazy over studying for OWLs?'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Because you were too busy being a complete git.'

'Ah, that's true,' he agreed. 'But I cottoned on eventually.'

'It sure took you long enough.'

'Nobody ever said I was smart,' Ron said, smiling.

'_I _think you're smart,' she insisted.

'No, you don't.'

'Yes, I do! You're very smart.'

'Not as smart as you,' said Ron.

'You're a thousand times better than me at chess,' she said. 'And you're a better fighter.'

'Hmm ... am I?' She nodded. 'I think I like this conversation. What else?'

'You're also better at Quidditch. I couldn't fly a broom to save my life. And you put up with Trelawney all those years, so you're far more patient than I am, which really says something about me, considering you aren't patient at _all_.'

He chuckled, then leaned in and kissed her again.

They were interrupted, sometime much later, by the sound of Ginny's exaggerating gagging.

'Go away,' Ron said. He moved off of Hermione (when did he end up on top of her?) and looked at his sister. 'I don't bother you when you snog Harry.'

'Harry and I do not snog with the door wide open, nor do we do it in _your _room,' Ginny said in a singsong voice. 'But since I don't fancy listening to you two all night, I'll just be grabbing my pajamas and going upstairs with Harry.'

'Not something I want to think about,' said Ron.

Ginny shrugged innocently and winked at Hermione. 'Have fun. You might want to consider an Imperturbable, by the way.'

She left, closing the door behind her.

Hermione sat up and checked the clock. It was just past midnight.

'Should I go?' Ron asked softly.

Hermione shook her head. 'I – well, Ginny's going to be in your room, so where would you stay?'

'It doesn't matter,' he said. 'I could go up to Bill's room. Or –'

'Ron,' Hermione said. 'I want you to stay.'

She fought to contain her smile when she saw him swallow hard.

'I just – um – I've been meaning to ask –' she began, wishing she could skip the question, but knowing that she'd go crazy later if she didn't get an answer.

'Yeah?'

'Lavender,' she said. Ron sighed. 'I don't mean to bring her up again. I just want to know – what you did with her.'

'What d'you mean?' he asked, though she was fairly certain he knew exactly what she meant.

'I know you did more than snog her,' Hermione said. 'But I want to know how much more.'

Ron's eyes widened. 'I – hardly anything!' he said. 'I mean, I ... I touched her, um, chest ... a couple times ... but nothing else. I swear.'

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. That was exactly what she'd wanted to hear. Well, maybe she would've preferred him to say that they hadn't done anything other than snog, but she knew that he would be lying, and she didn't want that, did she? Besides, it wasn't as though McLaggen hadn't touched her chest, as well. Though, she hadn't exactly given him permission to. He'd sort of just done it at Slughorn's Christmas party.

'She wanted to do other stuff,' he said awkwardly. 'But ... I couldn't. She ... she wasn't ... you.'

Hermione beamed, then reached for her wand.

'What're you doing with that?' he asked.

'I'm going to Imperturbable the room, like Ginny said to,' she said. 'Unless you don't –'

'No,' Ron said quickly. 'I _definitely _do.'

'Okay, then,' she said, and cast the spell.

'Brilliant,' he said.

……………………………………………………………

It was late at night, and Charlie was too tired to be bothered to Apparate back to his flat in Romania. As he climbed the stairs to his old bedroom, he passed by Ginny's room, and saw a faint blue glow under the doorway. He felt his jaw clench. Why did his sister's bedroom need to be Imperturbabled? She was only sleeping, after all.

He knew, realistically, what the real reason behind an Imperturbable was. After all, he'd used a few in the past. But he also knew that his sister had no business needing one.

There was nothing he could do at the moment. He made a mental note to wake up early and wait for her to lower the Charm, so he could barge in immediately and catch his sister and Harry Potter red-handed.

As he kept on his way up to his room, it occurred to him that Ginny shared a room with Hermione. Although he couldn't imagine _Hermione _needing an Imperturbable, he much preferred that to Ginny. He was well aware of the double-standard that existed – if it turned out that Ron was in there with Hermione, Charlie would probably laugh and forget about it, but if it was Harry in there with Ginny, he would go ballistic. Still, he couldn't be bothered to care about how unfair he was.

But if Hermione was with Ron, that meant that Ginny was sleeping somewhere else, anyway. Charlie went up to Ron's room and saw that the door was closed but the room didn't appear to be charmed.

He went down into his own room and grabbed his Invisibility Cloak. Yes, Harry Potter wasn't the only one with that handy little instrument. Wearing the Cloak, he went back up to Ron's room and pushed open the door. He found Ginny there, lying in Harry's bed with her back pressed against his chest. He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

The twinge of annoyance he'd felt earlier grew into something larger, and he was a second away from waking Ginny up, sending her to sleep in his bedroom and parking himself in Ron's bed just to make sure she didn't try to sneak back, when Harry shifted. His arm wrapped around Ginny seemingly on instinct, and then he opened an eye.

'What're you doing here?' he asked.

Charlie didn't think Ginny would answer, as she appeared to be asleep. He was surprised when she said, 'Ron's downstairs with Hermione. I don't even want to think about all the nasty things they're doing in _my _bedroom.'

Harry laughed. 'You've got the dirtiest mind out of anyone I know,' he said. 'How d'you know they're not just sleeping like us?'

'Oh, so we're sleeping, are we?' she asked, sounding dejected.

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Why? Got a better idea?'

'I can think of one or two things,' Ginny – Charlie's _baby sister _– said. She shifted backward against him and he groaned.

'Your parents are just downstairs,' he said.

'My parents have never stopped you before.'

'No, your parents have _always _stopped me before,' he said. 'They've just never stopped you, and ... fuck, Ginny, I'm only human.'

Ginny smirked but said nothing.

Charlie held his breath and tried not to shift too loudly on his feet, hoping they would fall asleep soon so he could open the door and sneak out. As much as he wanted to pull off the Cloak now and throw a huge fit, he knew that Ginny would make the rest of his life a living hell if he did. He had long since missed his chance to make his presence known, and if he was discovered now, he would be flayed alive for "spying". But was it really spying if your intentions were honourable? Though he felt certain he had every right to know all of her personal business, Charlie knew that his sister would feel differently, and she was _not _someone he wanted to go toe-to-toe with when angry.

'I think your brother hates me,' Harry said after a moment of total silence.

'My brother? There are _six_. You'll have to be a bit more specific than that,' said Ginny.

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'Charlie. He hates me.'

'What?' asked Ginny. 'Why do you think that?'

'Dunno ... haven't you seen the looks he's been giving me all week?'

'No, I haven't,' she said. 'Because I would've given him hell if I had. He – he's always been really protective of me. I guess he's just not ready to accept that I'm not a little girl, that none of my big brothers are the most important male in my life anymore.'

'Hmm.'

'You're not scared of _Charlie_, are you?'

'There are quite a few things that I'm scared of,' said Harry, 'but Charlie isn't one of them.'

'Oh? So what _are _you afraid of?'

'I – don't know,' he said stupidly.

'Harry,' Ginny said pointedly. 'This is me. You can tell me the truth.'

Harry paused for a moment. 'I – well – I'm not scared of dying. I'm _not_,' he said. 'I know that I – well, I just – I think I'm okay, y'know, knowing that it's going to happen –'

'It's not going to happen!'

'Gin –'

'Shut up.' She kicked the blankets off of herself and stood up.

'_Ginny_,' he repeated, sitting up behind her and grabbing her wrist softly.

Ginny stopped but didn't turn back to him, and Charlie fought to hold in his sigh of relief. If she hadn't stopped, she would've plowed right into him and completely given him away. That was the least of his concerns at the moment, though. He was thoroughly interested in where this conversation was going. And upon seeing Ginny's expression, he found himself wondering if they hadn't had this conversation before.

'I can't _imagine _not seeing you everyday. I can't – I can't even stand the thought of it. And you talk about it like you've already made your peace with it. Like you aren't even going to try to stay with me. Hell, Harry, don't you _want _to live? You don't act like it.'

'That's not fair,' he said sharply.

'None of this is fair,' she said, shaking her head.

'You don't think I know that?'

She closed her eyes tightly.

'I just – I just want you to be okay,' he whispered. 'If I – when I'm gone.'

'Why are you doing this?' she sobbed.

Charlie felt his stomach churn. While he was glad to know that Harry was thinking realistic about everything, and trying to get Ginny to do the same, Charlie was going to have to seriously hurt Harry for making her cry like this.

'Because,' he ground out. 'If I – if it happens, you need to be prepared. I – _that's _what scares me. That once this over, you'll be drowning and I won't be around to save you. That's the only thing I worry about.' He rested his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes.

'I refuse to let you go,' she whispered, and he wrapped his arms around her.

'I don't think it's that easy,' he told her.

Ginny turned back to face him and whispered something that Charlie didn't hear. He saw the way Harry's features sharpened, the way the air around him suddenly seemed so much darker, and the person he was looking at wasn't Harry any longer, it was a man who was going to do evil, awful things in an attempt to save the world – or, more aptly, to just save Ginny, _his _world.

No longer caring if he was detected, just knowing that he needed to get out of there, Charlie opened the door. Once he was in the hallway, he pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of him and Apparated home to Romania.

……………………………………………………………

'Everything all right, Harry?' Lupin asked the next day.

'Yeah,' said Harry, but he really meant _no_. Of course something was wrong. Why else would he have Floo'd to Headquarters for no reason?

Lupin sat down across from him at the kitchen table. 'You know, for a Marauder's son, you can be a terrible liar.'

Harry sighed, but cracked a smile. 'I just – it's Ginny,' he admitted.

'Did you two have an argument?'

He shook his head. 'No. I don't even know. Last night, we –'

'Oh, this isn't one of _those _problems, is it?' Lupin asked, wearing a large smirk.

'_No_,' he said, feeling himself blush. 'We were talking about the war and ... Merlin, I just really have to figure out a way to keep her away from everything that's going to happen.'

'Why do you need to do that?' Lupin asked.

'Because,' Harry said.

_Wherever you end up_, he remembered her whispering, _just wait for me_. _Because I'll follow you anywhere_.

'You know,' said Lupin, 'I remember your father having the same problem with your mother.'

Harry felt his insides jump at the mention of his parents. 'So what did he do?'

'Well, actually, he did nothing,' said Lupin. 'James was smart enough to realize that nothing he could do would stop Lily from fighting in the war, and so he let her. I mean, he didn't _let _her. She would have regardless. But it was definitely easier on their relationship when he saw reason and stopped fighting her on it.'

'Yeah,' he said after a moment. 'And look at how they ended up.' He shook his head. 'That's not going to be Ginny.'

'It might have to be,' Lupin said softly, looking Harry in the eye. 'Lily – Lily was a beautiful person. A wonderful friend. A terrific fighter. But your mother had to die for you. If she didn't, I don't even want to think of what the world would be like right now.'

'It's two completely different situations,' Harry argued. 'Enough people have already died to protect me. My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore ... It's my fault they're all dead. And I can't be responsible for Ginny's death, too.'

'It's Voldemort's fault,' Lupin said fiercely. 'He killed your parents. He had his followers kill the others. Your safety was the most important thing to all of them. They chose to die, to protect you. And I promise you that they're all happy with their choices, wherever they are.'

'Sirius didn't have to die,' Harry said, closing his eyes briefly. 'That was my fault.'

'You made a mistake. Everyone makes them.'

'Most people's mistakes don't get other people killed.'

'You're not most people,' Lupin said. 'And Ginny isn't, either. She's a capable witch, Harry.'

'I know that,' said Harry. 'But she's also the number one target because of me. If anything ever happened to her, I couldn't take that.'

'You love her?'

'More than anything,' Harry said, absolutely unembarrassed. Why should he feel embarrassed?

'Then you'll let her do what she wants.'

'It's not that simple –'

'It _is_,' Lupin argued. 'I see a lot of your mother in Ginny. Lily was never one to sit on the sidelines while James went out and fought. She was always right there with your dad. Saved his neck more times than I can count.'

'And he was okay with that?'

'He had to be,' Lupin said. 'Lily was ... _fierce_. That was what James loved most about her.' Lupin sighed. 'You have to understand. Back then, we'd always figured that if we died, it would be in battle. But your parents, like so many other Order members, were hunted down and killed personally by Voldemort.'

Harry swallowed thickly.

'My point,' said Lupin, 'is that you just never know. If you force Ginny to stay behind and not fight, you're changing her. And maybe she'll be alive when this is all over, but she won't be the girl you fell in love with. Do you really want _that_?'

'I – I just want her to live. Nothing else matters. If I could go back and never get involved with her ... I would, if it would keep her safe.'

'Would you have wanted your father to go back in time and not be with your mother?'

Harry paused. 'That's different.'

'They were only together for a few years, but they made the most of it. They were happier than most people are throughout their entire lives. And if it had been me, I wouldn't have wanted to trade that for anything.'

Harry sighed and put his head in his hands. 'I hate not knowing how this is going to end. I hate that so many people have died, and that so many are still going to. I wish I could just find these bloody Horcruxes already and be done with it.'

'Now,' Lupin said, 'try not to get your hopes up, but we think we might have a lead on another one.'

Harry immediately sat up straighter. 'What? Where? Who found it? Do you know which one it is?'

'Minerva brought Dumbledore's Pensieve here yesterday evening. Tonks and I spent this morning reviewing the memories he'd showed you during your sessions, and she thinks that the orphanage might be a location worth checking out.'

'That's ... great!' Harry said, feeling his mood lighten significantly at the prospect of potentially finding and destroying another Horcrux. A second thought came crashing down on him, though, and he felt his stomach sink when he realized that he, Ron and Hermione would need to leave soon, in order to destroy this Horcrux alone. That meant leaving Ginny, and after the discussion they'd had last night, he didn't think she would be horribly willing to let him go.

'What is it?' Lupin asked, apparently noticing how Harry's face fell.

'Nothing,' he lied. 'I just remembered that I forgot to do something ... I should probably be getting back to The Burrow.'

Lupin nodded. They stood from the table.

'Um, should I tell the Weasleys, or will there be an Order meeting about this?' asked Harry.

'We'll probably hold a meeting in the next few days, once Tonks and I have been able to find out a little more about the location,' said Lupin. 'But feel free to tell any of the Weasleys. And Hermione, of course.'

Harry nodded, say goodbye, and then Floo'd back to The Burrow to tell Ron and Hermione the news.

……………………………………………………………

'The orphanage?' Ron repeated. Hermione leaned forward, listening intently.

Harry nodded. 'That's what Lupin said,' he told them. 'But it's a Muggle orphanage, so any information we'd get on it would have to be from Muggle books.'

'I'll owl my mum and ask her to check the library,' Hermione offered.

'Great,' said Harry. 'All I really know is that it was an orphanage in London. It was definitely running during the late 1920s and all of the 1930s, because that's when Tom Riddle was staying there. But how many orphanages in London can there be, really?'

'Only one way to find out,' Ron said with a shrug. 'You think your mum will find what we need?'

'Surely she'll be able to come up with _something_,' said Hermione. 'Can I borrow Hedwig?'

Harry nodded and crossed his fingers, hoping that Mrs Granger would be able to find exactly what they needed.

……………………………………………………………

Two days later, Hedwig returned during breakfast with a large package from Mrs Granger. Hermione downplayed it in front of the Weasleys, saying her mum had probably just sent her a few things from her bedroom at home, but her heart was already beating faster as she sat the package on the floor beside her chair. It felt heavy enough to contain at least one book, and she hoped that her mother had come through and obtained the right information.

She struggled to eat breakfast at a normal pace, wanting nothing more than to devour her meal in three bites and run upstairs, where she would wake Ron and open the box. Harry was already training at Hogwarts, but Ron wasn't due to go for another few hours, and so she could at least look at the contents of the package with him. Ron could tell Harry all about it as they trained.

She finished her food slowly and then lingered for a moment more before going upstairs. She could tell that Ginny sensed something was up, but Hermione wasn't going to tell her. Harry had not told Ginny the details yet, and as far as she knew, he was not going to. Or perhaps he was planning on telling her just as soon as Hermione's mum got back to them. Regardless of his plan, Hermione knew that Ginny wasn't going to hear a word from her until she could know for sure how much she was allowed to disclose.

'Ron,' she said, nudging him awake.

'What d'you want?' he mumbled, not opening his eyes.

'Get up.'

'Why?'

'I received a package from my mother,' she said. 'I'm opening it. I just thought you'd want to be awake when I did.'

He groaned and sat up. 'Okay, let's have it, then.'

She set the box down on his bed and opened it. Slapping his hand away when he reached for the topmost book, Hermione grabbed the note that was attached and began to read.

_Dear Hermione_,

_I searched the library for hours_, _but I'm afraid I couldn't find very many references to a London orphanage operating during the years you listed_. _I managed to find two references that I think best suited your descriptions_, _and this box contains the two separate books that I found them in_. _Page 159_, _paragraph 5 in the first book_,_ and page 308_,_ paragraph 16 in the second book_.

_I checked the location out on the Internet as well. I found several newspaper articles on the building, and I have attached one of them to the back of this letter_._ I'm going to suggest taking a look at the article before the books_.

_I don't know what you needed this information for_, _but I sincerely hope that I was of some help to you_. _I have also included 250 pounds in this package_. _Hermione_,_ I don't know what you're about to do_, _but I'm willing to bet that it is going to be dangerous_. _Please be safe_. _Your father and I love you very, very much_. _Give our best to Ron_,_ Harry_,_ and the rest of the Weasleys_.

_All my love_,

_Mum_.

'Well?' asked Ron.

Hermione turned the letter over and gasped as she took in the title of the newspaper article.

'What's that?' Ron asked, moving closer and reading it for himself.

'An article my mum found ... about the orphanage.'

'About the orphanage?' he repeated. 'But – shite. This says it burned down.'

'Yes,' Hermione said softly. 'And look at the date of the article.'

'1945,' Ron read aloud. He looked up, and their eyes met. 'So?'

'So,' said Hermione, 'we've just found our Horcrux location.'

……………………………………………………………

**Please forgive my terrible lateness. I've been in a horrible mood lately, for reasons I will not bore you with, and every time I sat down to write this chapter, it ended with Harry dying. And when I would give myself a shake and try again, Ginny was the one dying. Since neither was incredibly convenient for this chapter, I decided to put the writing on hold for a while.**

**Review, and don't forget to check out my newest one-shot, _Left Behind._**


	39. The Departure

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

I have serious love for all my readers – from those who have been reading since day one to those who just started today. But this chapter is dedicated to those who have been reading from day one.

Today, Just Going With It is officially one year old.

Well, it's actually just past midnight now, so I suppose I should say _yesterday_. Either way, I just want to give a huge thank you to everyone who has spent a year of their life following this story. The response I've gotten with this single story has been huge, overwhelming, and one-hundred percent unexpected.

Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Departure  
……………………………………………………………

'Huh?' Ron asked.

'Don't you get it?' said Hermione.

'Um … does it _look _like I have any bloody clue what you're talking about?'

Hermione sighed, then furrowed her brow. 'I mean … I might be totally off the mark here, but … the dates _do _match up …'

'Would you just tell me already?'

'Hepzibah Smith,' she said. 'Remember? Harry told us about her? Dumbledore showed him the memory from her house elf.'

'She was the old bird with the Hufflepuff cup, right?'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Yes. The old bird,' she said dryly. 'That's her.'

He grinned. 'What about her?'

'If I remember correctly –'

'And you probably do,' Ron said under his breath.

'– Voldemort visited her when he was fresh out of Hogwarts, working at Borgin and Burkes. She showed him the cup and the locket, and then a couple days later, she ended up dead, and both objects had gone missing,' Hermione recalled. She looked at Ron expectantly.

'Er, I remember that, but what does that have to do with the orphanage?'

'Voldemort was right out of Hogwarts when he killed her. Eighteen. A little older, maybe.'

'Um … okay?'

Hermione sighed, exasperated. 'Voldemort was born in 1926. Go ahead eighteen years.'

Ron looked at her. 'That's math I can't do,' he said simply.

She rolled her eyes. '_Honestly_. The year is 1944,' she told him. 'The orphanage burned down in 1945. The article says that it was ruled as arson, but nobody was ever caught and reprimanded.'

Something in Ron's head finally clicked. 'So …' he said slowly, hoping he'd finally figured out what she was saying. 'You think that Voldemort killed Hepzibah, stole the cup and the locket, and then a little while later, he burned down the orphanage and left the cup there?'

'That's what I think,' Hermione concluded. 'Voldemort – understandably – hated growing up there. He had no family, and Harry even said that the women running the orphanage thought he was odd. They all probably treated him like a freak. I think he sent the place up in flames, as revenge. And then, because he felt so powerful and so terrific, he left one of his Horcruxes there, in the ruins.'

'Wouldn't one of the Muggles have found it?' Ron speculated. 'I mean, it's not as though he put any Muggle-repelling Charms on the area. There were articles written about it, and the fire was investigated. People probably searched through the ruins night and day.'

Hermione appeared to consider this. 'There are spells to make magical objects completely invisible to Muggles,' she said eventually. 'Sort of like the way Grimmauld Place would be invisible to anyone who didn't know it was there.'

'I really hope you're right,' Ron said.

'I think I am,' she said confidently. 'The coincidence is just too great. The years match up almost perfectly. And the fact that the orphanage was burned down … Voldemort never would've left a Horcrux there just because it was an important part of his life. It was a _bad _part of his life. But by burning it down, maybe even killing a few people inside, I bet he felt like he accomplished something great.'

Ron shrugged. 'If Harry agrees with you – and it's _you_, so why wouldn't he? – we'll probably leave tomorrow. Maybe even tonight. Are you –?'

'Oh!' she said. 'I just thought – what if something else has been build overtop of the ruins?'

'Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe it's in a ruddy neighbourhood and nobody wanted to build something there,' he said. 'Or maybe Voldemort put another sort of spell around it, keeping that sort of stuff from happening.'

Hermione pulled out the books and began flipping through the pages. Once she had read both paragraphs, she pulled out the 250 pounds her mother had included and smiled. 'This'll help us out a lot,' she said. 'Since we can't risk staying anywhere in the magical world, we'll need Muggle money so we can stay in a motel or an inn. And we can't go to Gringotts to change our money into Muggle pounds. If you add in the amount of Muggle money I've got up in my trunk, we should be able to get by for a week, maybe even more.'

'Well,' said Ron. 'I sure hope it won't take us that long.'

Hermione nodded absentmindedly. 'We need to be prepared for the worst.'

'The worst,' Ron said, 'is not running out of money. The worst is if a hundred Death Eaters are there waiting for us.'

'It's a possibility,' Hermione said. 'After all, with Snape on their side, Voldemort must know that we're hunting down and destroying the Horcruxes. I wouldn't be surprised if he's got a _thousand _Death Eaters waiting for us.'

Ron gulped. 'You think he's even got a thousand Death Eaters?'

Hermione bit her lip. 'No,' she said. 'Not even close, I bet. But I'm sure that even if he's only got _ten_ stationed there to fight us, that's enough to get us in some serious trouble.'

'What?' said Ron lightly. 'You don't think the three of us can take on ten Death Eaters?'

'Of course we can,' Hermione said, but she didn't sound horribly confident.

**……………………………………………………………  
**

'We leave Tuesday morning,' Harry said. He, Ron and Hermione were up in Ron's bedroom, and he'd just looked at everything Hermione's mum had provided. 'Before the sun comes up.'

'But we should leave _tomorrow_,' Hermione said. 'We're as prepared now as we'll ever be, and the sooner we leave, the sooner we can get to work!'

'There's an Order meeting tomorrow,' said Ron. 'Tonks told us today during training.'

'It'll be about the progress they're making,' added Harry. Hermione's expression told him that she didn't think waiting that long was a good idea, and Harry agreed completely. But his desire to go out and destroy another Horcrux did not keep him from realizing how important it was to be properly prepared. 'I'd much rather go tomorrow but we need to hear what they have to say. If they've come up with something, we need to know.'

Hermione sighed, then nodded. 'So we'll attend the meeting tomorrow night, come home, wait for everyone to go to bed, and then leave? Without telling anyone?'

Harry nodded.

Ron and Hermione looked at him expectantly. What? He got the feeling that he was forgetting something. But what?

'Okay … What?' he asked.

'Ginny,' they said together.

'Well, _obviously_,' he said, but felt his stomach sink. Truthfully, she hadn't even entered his mind. He was so focused on the Horcruxes that he hadn't even considered her.

He didn't know how long they were going to be gone. What would Ginny say? What would she _do_?

Mrs Weasley yelled that dinner was ready, and Harry, mercifully, was saved from further speech. He didn't really know what to say, anyway. He trudged downstairs, his mind entertaining several different scenarios of how his talk with Ginny would go. He didn't get very far though. Every scene ended with them snogging, and he somehow didn't think that this was a horribly accurate prediction.

He sat beside Ginny at dinner, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. His heart was beating faster than usual, and he realized, with no great amount of surprise, that he was actually afraid of Ginny. The tiny witch beside him, who just barely came up to his chin.

But she had proven time and time again that size was not a factor when it came to her.

And anyway, he wasn't too concerned that she would turn abusive when he told her his plans. He expected her to hit him, of course. However, he didn't expect it to hurt very much.

He just didn't want her to look at him like _that_, the way she always did when he did something she didn't want him to do. Breaking up with her, going off to fight without her.

He knew that she would want him to include her. He knew that she would insist on going with him. That couldn't happen. And not because he didn't want her in danger – though that was part of it. She would need to stay behind and keep the Order at bay. Harry was not foolish enough to think that Mrs Weasley wouldn't try to track them down. Lupin would figure out where they'd gone in a matter of minutes. If any of the Order members followed them and blew their cover, it could spell disaster for everyone involved. Ginny would have to – _what_? Distract them. Divert them. Do _something_. Anything.

Certainly she would be able to come up with something. She wasn't a Weasley for nothing, after all.

By the time dinner was finished, Harry was seriously considering putting off his discussion with Ginny. If she hadn't grabbed him put the shirt and pulled him into her room, he probably would have waited until the following day to tell her anything.

'Okay,' Ginny said, shutting the door firmly behind her. 'What's going on?'

'What d'you mean?' Harry asked, then knew it was the wrong thing to do. Playing the fool would _not _go over well.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but before she could speak, he cut in.

'I'm leaving Tuesday morning,' he blurted. 'With Ron and Hermione.'

'Where?' she whispered.

'Muggle London. We think we might've found another Horcrux.'

She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to comprehend all of this. 'You're sure?' she asked finally.

He nodded. 'There's going to be an Order meeting about it tomorrow. Lupin told me about it a few days ago and Hermione researched it –'

'Of course she did,' Ginny said.

'– Lupin and Tonks think the orphanage where Voldemort grew up might be a location,' he continued. 'And it's worth checking out.'

'So instead of waiting a few days and going with the Order, you three idiots are going to run off on your own and get yourselves killed?' she snapped.

'Ginny,' he said. 'Voldemort _knows _we're onto him. Snape told him, I know he did. So we can't afford to waste any time. Waiting a few days could mean going into the Final Battle with only five Horcruxes destroyed.'

Ginny covered her face with her hands and then ran them through her hair. 'There's no way you're letting me come with you, is there?' she asked.

'No,' he said softly, but firmly. 'I – I need you here. Safe.'

'I'm coming with you next time,' she said fiercely, a determined look on her face. 'And I refuse to take no for an answer, Harry. You _need _me. I know you do. And you know it, too.'

Harry closed his eyes, trying to fight against the portion of his brain that was agreeing with her. 'I … I'm not making any promises,' he said. 'But I'll think about it.'

She did not seem satisfied with his answer, but instead of arguing, she reached out and pulled him in for a hard, bruising kiss. When they pulled away, both breathing heavily, he said, 'I don't get it.'

'You never do,' she said, but not angrily, and then kissed him again.

He decided that although he knew they would fight about this entire situation later, he rather liked the idea of just snogging for now.

**……………………………………………………………**

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when Harry suddenly, unexpectedly Apparated into the middle of Ron's bedroom.

'Everything all right?' she asked.

Harry just blushed and turned his back to her. The sound of a zipper cut through the air, and Hermione fought to hide her smirk.

'Oh, Harry,' she said.

'Yeah?'

She bit her lip. 'I think your shirt is on inside out.'

He hung his head, then laughed. 'I suppose you caught me,' he muttered.

'What happened?'

He turned back around to face her and then grinned, embarrassed.

'Er – Charlie started knocking on Ginny's door, and we were –'

'Lovely,' she said, holding out her hand to stop his story. She really, really didn't need to hear the rest of his sentence.

She dropped her gaze to the floor as he pulled off his shirt and turned it the right way before putting it back on. She found this funny, yet embarrassing, and was thankful that Ron wasn't in the room.

'Do I even want to know,' Ron said, appearing at the door, 'why the two of you are in here alone with the door closed? Or why Harry was half-naked a second ago?'

'Probably not,' teased Hermione. 'Because you'd kill Harry and then my fun would be over.'

'Oh, you're just hilarious,' said Ron. He looked to Harry and then started laughing.

'What now?' Harry asked impatiently. Hermione couldn't figure out what Ron was laughing at.

'Nice love bite,' Ron said, flopping down onto his bed.

Harry's hand shot up to his neck, and Hermione noticed the red mark there.

'Like that, do you? You should see your sister.'

Ron shrugged. 'Is it supposed to bother me if she's got a love bite on her neck?'

'Who said it was anywhere near her neck?' Harry asked, so seriously that Hermione knew it was trouble, even if Harry was only joking.

Ron's jaw squared and he sat up.

'Okay,' she said before anything could happen. 'If you two can't play nicely, I'm going to have to separate you.'

'Whatever,' said Ron. Harry shrugged and sat down on his own bed. 'So? How did it go with Ginny?'

'She was … um …' said Harry. 'Her reaction was intense.'

'I'm sure she'll get over it,' Ron said.

Harry looked at Hermione and said, 'We'll have to do something about your hair.'

She was momentarily taken aback. 'Excuse me?' she said. What was he talking about?

'When we leave … you'll have to be the one to rent us a room. I'm rubbish at changing my appearance, and if I just went as myself, I'm too memorable. Whoever checks us in won't forget the bloke with the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. Ron, too. Tall, freckles – it just stands out in someone's mind. We can't afford to be tracked down. If you can use some kind of Glamour Charm to make your hair not as big, you won't be too memorable.'

She didn't know if that was an insult or not, but she decided it didn't matter. He was right, after all. 'I'll see what I can come up with,' she said. 'I'll ask Ginny for help.'

'I can change my appearance,' said Ron. 'I did it all the time when I was … er … when I was away. So if you need me to, I can check in and you two can follow under the Invisibility Cloak.'

'Will we both fit under there?' asked Harry.

Ron shrugged. 'We'll just have to figure out a way to fit,' he said. 'Or we'll need to come up with another way to sneak off without being seen.'

Hermione paced around the room. No matter how well-prepared they were, something was going to happen that would change their plans. It was impossible for them to anticipate every possible situation, and so there was room for error. They could be taken by surprise, and if they were, it could mean serious trouble for all three of them.

Though she tried, she couldn't seem to shake the overwhelming feeling that only two of them would be coming back from this _trip_.

**……………………………………………………………**

Ron sucked in a breath as Harry Apparated into his bedroom.

'Did you say goodbye to Ginny?' he whispered.

Harry nodded solemnly. 'Yeah,' he said. 'We're all set to leave?'

'Yes,' Hermione answered quietly.

Ron shivered. They were leaving, and who knew when they would be back?

(_If _they would be back.)

'Got the Cloak?'

Harry nodded, producing the Invisibility Cloak from behind his back.

'Got the money?'

Hermione pulled out an envelope, stuffed with Muggle pounds, some from her mother and some that she had saved up on her own.

'Got the note?'

Ron held up a piece of paper, on which he had written a note to his mum, telling her not to worry and not to try and follow them (even though the trio knew that Molly would do both anyway).

'Let's get out of here.'

Hermione reached out and clasped Ron's hand in her left, and Harry's in her right. 'We're going to be all right,' she said, hopefully.

'If one of us is separated from the other two,' Harry began, his voice shaking, 'the other two have to get out safely.'

Ron went to protest, but Harry looked at him so earnestly that he faltered.

'Promise,' he said.

'Harry –' Hermione said.

'_Promise_,' he repeated.

Defeated, Hermione said, 'Promise.'

Ron nodded and agreed as well, but when Harry turned his back, he and Hermione shared a look, and they both knew, without a doubt, that neither of them would ever leave Harry behind.

They didn't all fit under the Cloak anymore, so they settled for holding their breaths as they snuck out of Ron's room and down the stairs, praying that nobody would wake up and discover them. They made it down to the kitchen and out the door without difficulty, and as the cool night air kissed their skin, Ron realized that this was _it_. Once they left, they would not be coming home until they had a Horcrux with them.

He wondered how long it would take. And he wondered what sort of state everyone would be in when they returned.

_Goodbye_, he thought, hoping that it was only temporary, but knowing that he would sacrifice anything, even his life, for the two people at his sides. _Be safe_.

**……………………………………………………………**

**Along with reviews, I'm asking that everyone says a prayer for my friend, who's in a coma. It would be greatly appreciated. And for those of you who can't multi-task, just do the prayer.  
**

**God bless.**


	40. Complications

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.  
**

**I could say this chapter took me a long time to write, but that would be a pretty disgusting lie. Once I had the idea, it took about five hours. That's probably an exaggeration, actually. But I'm not even going to explain myself, because I've come to that awful place where it doesn't matter. There's way too much going on right now for me to let myself worry about updating all the time. But all of you selfish readers out there can relax. _And you can stop sending me emails, too, because we both know I just send nasty replies_. I'm not quitting this story.**

**For Ashleigh, my favourite person ever, who died without waking on the twenty-third. And for Eddie, who died late Wednesday night. Rest in peace.**

**Chapter Forty: Complications  
**……………………………………………………………

It was raining, of course, and Hermione fretted for ten minutes, wondering aloud why she hadn't thought to bring an umbrella.

'A little rain never hurt anyone,' Ron said, though it didn't look like Ron at all. He now had a smaller nose, black hair, and no freckles in sight. Harry marvelled at the change, saying he looked like a complete git, and, subsequently, about a thousand times better than usual. Hermione smacked his arm (or what she thought was his arm, given that he was under the Invisibility Cloak) and insisted that she liked him exactly the way he was, and that Harry was merely joking.

'I'm sure a little rain has never done anyone any harm,' Hermione agreed. 'But this is a _lot _of rain. And I don't think all of the straightening spells I applied to my hair will hold if this keeps up.'

She quickened her pace a bit, forcing the other two to speed up.

'How many rooms are we getting?' asked Harry. He didn't think Hermione would much enjoy having to share a room with the two of them. Or, he didn't think _he'd _enjoy having to bunk in with _them_.

'That's directly dependent on how many we can afford,' answered Hermione. She paused and looked around. 'Do you really know where we're going?'

'Sure I do,' said Ron. When Hermione nodded and resumed walked, he looked in Harry's direction and shrugged, as if to say, _I don't have a bloody clue in hell where we are_.

Harry smiled to himself under the Cloak. His friend really was a piece of work.

'That looks like a hotel over there,' Hermione said, pointing to a place Harry couldn't quite see, due to his poor vision.

'See?' said Ron. 'I told you I knew where we were going.'

Hermione rolled her eyes and squealed when Ron jumped in a puddle, spraying her with water.

'_Ron_,' she scolded.

Ron smiled innocently. 'C'mon,' he said. 'Stop making a scene. We aren't supposed to draw unwanted attention, remember?' he asked, repeating the words she'd used when lecturing him earlier.

'Honestly,' she said, shaking her head at him. 'Harry and I should have left you back at The Burrow.'

'Did you hear that one, mate?' said Harry. 'I think your girl's making a pass at me. Keep a close eye, or she might try to leave you and take up with me.'

'Nah,' Ron disagreed. 'Why would she want to trade down like that?'

Harry shoved him lightly and Ron took a pretend swing, earning him several strange looks from the Muggles who thought he was punching air, rather than an invisible Harry.

'Okay,' Hermione said strictly, sounding much like a mother speaking to an over-active child. They stopped outside the front entrance to a small Muggle building that Harry assumed was a slightly run-down hotel. 'Ron, just stand there, and try not to look too amazed by every little Muggle contraption you see. Don't speak unless directly spoken to.'

'Why not?' he asked, and honestly, Harry thought he was only asking this to drive Hermione mad.

'Because you'll give us away!' she hissed. 'Just remember – under no circumstances are you to do anything other than what we've already agreed on.'

'Yeah, yeah,' said Ron tiredly. 'I heard you the first four times.'

Hermione appeared to be restraining herself (though not without a great deal of effort) from wringing his neck.

'Let's go,' Harry said. Holding the Cloak very tightly around himself – for it wouldn't do well for him to lose hold of it and randomly appear in the middle of a room full of Muggles – he followed Ron and Hermione through the doors.

A petite woman with a too-pleasant-to-be-genuine smile plastered on her face regarded Ron and Hermione from her place behind the front desk. Her nametag caught one of the florescent lights hanging above her and sparkled, reminding Harry greatly of Percy and his polished Head Boy badge.

'Good morning,' the woman – _Kate _– said. 'What can I do for you this morning?'

'Hello,' said Hermione, in a voice far more upbeat than one she ever used when speaking to either Harry or Ron. 'We'd like to rent a room.' She clasped Ron's hands and added, for good measure, 'We're on our honeymoon. We first thought to go somewhere like Italy, but then –'

Harry wondered if Hermione realized that only liars gave away heaps and heaps of useless information. The way she was rambling on, he seriously doubted it.

'Do you have a reservation?' Kate cut in.

Harry watched as Hermione's smile fell. 'Um, no, actually,' she said lamely.

Harry could tell that Kate was rather puzzled. 'You didn't think to make a reservation?'

'I – um –'

'We eloped,' said Ron, jumping in and doing exactly what Hermione had instructed him not to do. 'Decided that a big, extravagant wedding wasn't our style.'

Hermione took a moment to process what he'd said. 'Right. Exactly. We're not very fancy people,' she said.

_Obviously_, Harry thought, looking at the cracking wall behind Kate's head, and then down to the unusual stain on the floor just to the right of his feet. _Why else would anyone want to stay here for their honeymoon?_

Kate's smile returned full-force. 'That's wonderful,' she said. 'Congratulations. Give me a moment, and I'll go see what I can do.'

'Wonderful,' said Hermione, who appeared to regain her bearings.

'I just remembered something,' Ron said quietly, after Kate had left her post and disappeared into the back room.

'What's that?' asked Hermione.

'You,' he said, speaking in hushed tones, 'are a _terrible _liar.'

Hermione frowned, but didn't bother trying to deny it.

Kate returned, her fake smile still stuck on her face. 'I'm very sorry,' she said, 'but it seems that we're all filled up for tonight.'

Harry wondered if this was true – how many people could possibly want to stay here at one single point in time? Then again, judging by the apparent size of the building from the outside, he didn't think there were very many available rooms to begin with.

'Oh, dear,' said Hermione. The trio had not planned on this in the least.

Biting his lip, Harry waved his hand under the Cloak.

The telephone began to ring, causing Ron to jump slightly and look around wildly. Hermione elbowed him in the side and glared at him.

Kate smiled apologetically at Ron and Hermione, then turned away from them and answered the phone, using a greeting with which she sounded horribly practiced.

Ron and Hermione exchanged confused looks, and Harry wondered how long it would take before they realized that he'd had a hand in this sudden phone call.

'You're in luck,' Kate said brightly after hanging up the phone and turning back to them. 'One of our guests just called and cancelled their reservations. We've got a room available, though it isn't the deluxe suite we usually have to offer couples on their honeymoon. If you had phoned ahead …'

'We'll take it,' Hermione said quickly. 'How much?'

'It's fifty-three pounds a night,' replied Kate. She turned to her computer and began typing away. 'How many nights will you be staying? The cancelled reservation was for three days, so that's really all I can offer you at this time … unless something else turns up …'

They exchanged looks. 'Er,' said Ron. 'Three days sounds all right.'

'Excellent. You'll be paying at the end of your stay, so all I need is your name and –'

'Fisher,' said Hermione. 'Parker and Charlotte.'

Apparently, Parker and Charlotte Fisher were a couple who had once lived a few blocks over from Hermione when she was younger.

Kate nodded robotically and put this into the computer. She then looked up, stared at them for a moment, and got a funny expression on her face.

_The jig is up_, Harry thought instantly.

She leaned over the counter and raised her eyebrows. 'Haven't you any luggage?'

'We thought we'd just buy whatever we needed,' said Ron after a moment. It was probably too long of a pause, but if Kate thought this, she didn't let on. 'I never pack the right stuff, anyway.'

In truth, Hermione was carrying a purse holding all of their shrunken possessions.

'It's awful, really,' added Hermione. 'You wouldn't believe what he considers _necessities_. Ridiculous.'

'There's a shopping mall just down the way,' said Kate. 'Since check-in isn't until noon, perhaps you could busy yourselves there, if you're not familiar enough with the area to go out.'

Hermione nodded. 'Great. We've got a few things in particular I suppose we'll need to get while we're here.'

'Well,' said Kate. 'I hope you find everything you're looking for here in London.'

Hermione smiled tightly. 'Yes, I'm quite sure we will.'

……………………………………………………………

Ginny knew, by the sound of her mum's screams, that the note had been found.

'EVERYONE,' yelled Mrs Weasley. 'Downstairs NOW! They're gone!'

Sighing, and preparing herself for one hell of a morning, Ginny pulled on some clothes and made her way downstairs. It wasn't as if she'd been sleeping, anyway. How could she possibly sleep? She'd spent the past three hours sitting in the middle of her room, in pitch blackness, doing nothing but leaving her mind wide open, just incase Harry wanted to make an appearance.

He hadn't.

She didn't dare let herself wonder what horrible thing could have happened that would prevent him from communicating with her.

That bloody git was probably alive and well and living it up with Ron and Hermione. Wanker.

The first thought Ginny had upon seeing her mum was _she looks terrible_.

And it was true. Never, not _ever_, had Mrs Weasley looked as old as she did in this moment. Ginny felt a pang of guilt. They all put her through so much. And it really wasn't going to end anytime soon, was it? She was forced to wonder, though not for the first time, just how much pain and grief Ginny and her brothers would cause their mother during this war, whether directly or indirectly.

'Ginny,' sobbed her mum, 'Ron is gone! And so are Harry and Hermione.'

'Yeah,' said Ginny calmly, though not one inch of her felt anything less than completely panicked when _Harry _was mentioned. She didn't need a reminder that he wasn't safe at home. She knew bloody well enough that he was in as much danger now as he'd ever been in before. 'I know.'

It was amazing, truly amazing, how fast her mum could switch from hysterical to furious.

'_You KNOW_?'

'Ginny –' Charlie began. She noticed for the first time since coming down into the kitchen that he and Bill were also present.

'_Where are they_?'

'I don't know,' said Ginny, and bugger, when did she become a worse liar than bloody Hermione?

'It sure sounds like you do,' said Bill.

'Fine,' Ginny corrected. She looked at her brothers, refusing to let herself glance back over at her mum. If she had to see the tortured look her mum's face held for another second … she'd spill everything. 'I do know. But I'm not telling.'

'You most certainly _are_,' her mum snapped. 'Tell me where my son has gone!'

'I can't,' Ginny said resolutely. Harry had warned her that her mum would try to exercise any possible authority she could muster, and that if it came down to it, she would resort to mercilessly bullying Ginny into telling the truth.

Ginny thought she'd prepared herself for any possible confrontation. After all, she'd always been brilliant when dealing with confrontation. She had to be. She was a Weasley. How else would she survive in her own house if she couldn't go head-to-head with the best of them?

'This is not the time for games, Ginevra.'

'I know that,' said Ginny. 'Mum. Listen. They're gone, and there's nothing any of us can do now. You think that if I had a say, I'd be hanging around here? Hell no! I'd have gone –'

'_Ginevra_. Do not stand here and tell me that you would have gone with those three.'

Ginny shrugged. 'All right, then. I'll lie – I have no ambition to ever join this fight. I'm well aware that there's a huge war going on out there, but I have absolutely no intention of getting involved. So what if my whole family's going to be putting their arses on the line? And Harry – goodness, no, I couldn't care less about his role in this. I'm really just happy to sit in the shadows and twiddle my thumbs like a good little girl. Lock me up and come collect me when the big, bad men are all gone, would you?'

Her mum slapped her across the face then, and her brothers gaped. Molly Weasley had never hesitated when it came to yelling and screaming and punishing her children, but she had _never _raised a hand at any of them. No matter what they'd done.

But Ginny was unfazed. 'I'm joining this fight, Mum,' she said. 'I'm doing it whether you like it or not. I'm not a little girl anymore. You can't make all my decisions anymore. You don't get to call the shots and just expect me to –'

'Then who _does _call the shots, Ginny?' interrupted Charlie. 'It's clearly not you. You said yourself that if you had a say in it, you'd have left with the others. Who's in charge, then? Harry? He's the boss of you now, is he?'

'That's enough,' yelled Ginny. 'What is your fucking problem?'

Her mum didn't even scold her for her filthy language. Or perhaps she did. But Ginny did not hear her either way.

'I'm just saying,' said Charlie calmly. The fact that he was trying to keep his temper in check – so he could come off as being the bigger person – made her blood boil even more. 'It seems to me that Harry's starting to show his true colours. That one has you trained awfully well, yeah?'

Charlie said this very matter-of-factly, and in that moment, Ginny hated him. And not a little bit, either. She hated him very much – so much, in fact, that for a split-second, she wished him to go away and never return. She hated his smug face, his over-protectiveness, his utter inability to realize and accept that although he had never felt all the feelings Ginny experienced with Harry, those feelings _were _real.

She didn't even realize that she'd drawn her wand, nor did she realize that she was now holding it out and training it on her brother's neck.

'_Ginny_,' cried Mrs Weasley. Ginny ignored her mum.

'Just because you show your face around here on holidays and share the same blood as me doesn't mean you know me, or get any kind of say in how I live my life,' snapped Ginny. This was ridiculous. She didn't know what Charlie's problem was, but she decided that he was going to get over it very soon, or there would be hell to pay. 'You don't like Harry, even though he's never done anything to you. He's never done anything to _anyone_. He didn't ask for this responsibility. This _burden_. And who the hell are you to judge him? If you think I'm going to stand here and let you talk about him like that … like he's _Malfoy _… think again. I _love _him. Just because nobody has ever loved _you _that way doesn't mean –'

'_Ginny_.'

Charlie stared at her, and at her wand, too surprised to say anything. Ginny was vaguely aware that she had made her point, that she should stop now before she hurt her brother's feelings any more than she already had, but she couldn't stop. The words were coming out and there was no holding them back now. She didn't _want _to hold them back. She wanted him to feel bad, to realize that although he fancied himself a saint, he was merely a sad, pathetic man. Did he even know how poorly he treated the boy she loved? Did he _care_?

How could he say those things about Harry? How _dare _he?

'You might think Harry's a bad person, but he is twice the man you'll ever be. So what does that say about you?'

Ginny turned on her heel and went to storm out of the room. But then she reconsidered it, and realized that if she was already going to suffer the consequences of this later, she might as well get _everything _off her chest.

'You all treat me like an infant, and so it isn't any wonder you don't trust me enough to take an active role in this war. But I'm not a child, I'm _sixteen_. I'm just as old as Ron was when he was fighting in the Department of Mysteries. I'm way older than Harry was when he battled Voldemort after the Triwizard Tournament. Yet somehow everyone seems to overlook those facts.' She paused. 'Ever been possessed by Voldemort's teenage self and been forced to do awful things? Or been tortured with round after round of the Cruciatus Curse? Between the Chamber of Secrets and what happened at the wedding this summer, I think it's safe to say that I've gone through more mentally – perhaps even physically – than anyone else in this room, and I've survived. Why does nobody _see _that?'

'We're just being –'

'_Selfish_,' said Ginny. 'You're all just being selfish. You all know I can handle anything that's thrown at me, but you're too scared to let me try. Mum doesn't want to lose her baby girl. And all of you boys like to pretend I'm some sort of damsel in distress. You're keeping me out of this war and it's _selfish_, because maybe my role in this could help make the difference between a loss and a victory. And if we lose, what then? Little Ginny will be safe, but for how long? Harry is the only one who can beat Voldemort, and he needs love. _My _love.'

Mrs Weasley opened her mouth to speak, but Ginny decided that she wasn't finished yet.

'If they want to get to Harry, and they do, I am one of the first – if not the _very_ first –on Voldemort's hit list. Did you know that?'

'No, you –'

'It's not as if those Death Eaters invaded the wedding for fun. And it's not as if they wanted Hermione but grabbed me by mistake. That entire thing was orchestrated so Voldemort could capture me. _Me_. I'm not asking you to be happy that I'm fighting, but I am asking that you respect me enough to realize that I want to protect myself and Harry.'

That last sentence said it all, didn't it? She didn't want to fight to protect her family or her friends. Just Harry. It was all about Harry. Of course her family wouldn't understand that, but it was how she felt. He was it for her. His fate would decide hers. She was certain that she would survive this war, and that he would as well. But if he didn't, if every negative thing he said came true, she knew without a doubt that she would go with him. She didn't want to be somewhere if he wasn't there at her side.

Was it even possible for a person to feel as strongly as she did? Sometimes, it was a wonder that she didn't burst inside from everything she felt for him.

She stopped just inside the doorway and turned to address her mother.

'Those three are gone,' she said. 'I know where they are, and I know what they're doing, yes, but you won't ever get it out of me. If you need to call an Order meeting to try and find them, then you do what you have to do, Mum. But know that I'm every ounce as determined and stubborn as you are, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you don't figure out what they're up to until they're back home and telling you themselves.'

……………………………………………………………

_Mum_,

_We're sorry about this_. _Really, believe it or not, we understand how crazy this is going to make you_. _But we need to do this_. _And we can't tell you what "this" is, either_. _Please don't come after us_. _You won't find us, but if you do, it'll be disaster for both us and you_. _Stay home, stay safe, and try to remember that we WILL be home _… _eventually_.

_Love_,

_Ron, Hermione and Harry_.

_P_._S_. –_ We love you, and we'll be back soon, and I promise we'll have all of our limbs still attached_.

Underneath it, words that had been scratched out with several long slashes of a quill, but which were still rather legible, read:

_Or at the very least, we'll have them in our hands and you can attach them for us_.

As she re-read these words for what must have been the millionth time since discovering the note that morning, Molly Weasley closed her eyes at the thought of her son being severely injured, perhaps even dying. Was this honestly happening? How could Ron even _think _to leave? Didn't he understand the danger involved?

_Of course he understands_, a tiny voice in her mind said. _That's what he loves most about all of this_.

It seemed ridiculous, and yet it was so true that it caused Molly's body to shake with the force of her sobs.

Ronnie. Please, not one of her babies.

Why was it that she loved her sons – and Ginny – so much, and yet it couldn't be enough to keep them safe? Why couldn't she do what mothers were supposed to do and make sure her children were happy and healthy and, above all, _alive_?

Gone were the days that she would tuck them in at night, plant a kiss on their forehead, shut the door, and know that they would be in that exact place when she came back into their rooms to wake them in the morning.

Now, the twins were moved out. Bill and Charlie were far away. Up until very recently, the distance with Percy had been emotional as well as physical.

She thought it would be different with Ron, her final boy. He had always tried to keep up with his brothers, and had always admired Bill and Charlie very much, but he'd always been such a sweetheart and she'd always thought that he'd want to stay at home for at least a little while longer than her other sons. The year before he'd gone off to Hogwarts, she'd looked out the kitchen window and watched him playing on Charlie's broom.

She'd known that he would leave her to go away to school, but he would return home with stories and smiles, and would it be too much to hope that he'd have top marks?

_No_, she didn't care if he got top marks. She wouldn't expect him to be Head Boy like Percy and Bill. And she wouldn't expect him to be a Quidditch star like Charlie. Or have a sharp sense of humour, like Fred and George. Her Ronnie would be his own person, and no matter what that person was like, she would love him just as much as she loved her other children – unconditionally.

And then there was Ginny. Even at the earliest of ages, it had been clear that Ginny was going to be something else. A strong and perhaps selfish Weasley personality, but with a heart good enough to balance her out at even the worst of times. Molly thought that she would never have to worry about her daughter, who surely would not play that ridiculous sport on those unsafe brooms like her sons insisted on doing. Her daughter would never get into any sort of trouble in school, or do anything particularly daring. She would be beautiful, but she would never do anything inappropriate. She would be passive and would never challenge Molly in any way. She would not talk back. And she would certainly rather read about Harry Potter in _Witch Weekly _than fight and roughhouse with the boys.

As it turned out, Molly had been wrong about both of her children.

Ron was not anything like one of his brothers because he had a little bit of them _all _inside him. He was funny and helpful and good at Quidditch and a Prefect. He was rather bright, though she wasn't horribly sure he thought so himself. He was as loyal as any Gryffindor she'd ever known, not only to his family but to his friends, and although she'd nearly died herself when she thought she'd lost Ron, she loved him all that much more for the way he'd selflessly jumped in front of his sister and saved her.

And Ginny, too, was nothing like Molly had expected her to be. Her personality _was _strong, and she was as stubborn as the best of them. But Ginny was just as competitive and talented at Quidditch as any of her other children (except Percy, of course), and she had been known to get a detention or two in her years at Hogwarts. She _was _beautiful – and not just through her mother's eyes – and though she handled it gracefully, Molly knew that like any other teenager that age, Ginny had done her share of misbehaving with boys. (Or _boy_, singular. Harry Potter wasn't in an article in the magazine in Ginny's bedroom. Harry Potter was, quite simply, _in Ginny's bedroom_.)

She was loud and perhaps even more aggressive than her brothers. She was incredibly daring. She went along with Ron to the Department of Mysteries in her fourth year, and fought at Hogwarts in her fifth year. And now, as she had reminded Molly a few minutes earlier, Ginny was playing an even more dangerous game.

Molly put her head in her hands. Ron and Ginny were her youngest babies. They were supposed to be safe and free from the threat of Voldemort, who had been vanquished before either of them could speak. They weren't supposed to be the ones fighting to get rid of Voldemort once and for all, even if that meant sacrificing themselves in the process. She just couldn't do it. She couldn't lose one of her children.

'They're good kids, Molly,' her husband assured her. He'd come home from work as soon as her owl had reached him. 'Harry would never let anything happen to Ron. And Hermione will be logical and keep him safe.'

Perhaps Ron would come home to her. But at what price? Would the other two have to make the ultimate sacrifice? That wouldn't do.

There was a reason, after all, why Harry and Hermione were also on Molly Weasley's clock.

……………………………………………………………

'Okay,' Harry said. He was under his Invisibility Cloak, walking beside Ron and Hermione, who were both wearing Muggle disguises. 'What does the map say?'

'We should be coming up to it,' Hermione said. Her nose was buried in the map as they walked. They trudged along for a minute more, and then Hermione stopped. 'Here. It should be right here.'

'What the bloody hell?' exclaimed Ron.

'Oh, my …' said Hermione, looking up.

'You're fucking kidding me,' muttered Harry.

'Have we got the wrong location?' said Ron.

'No,' Hermione answered. 'This is … exactly where the orphanage used to be.'

Harry looked around and saw that the surrounding London street was much the same as it had been in the Pensieve memories. Some of the buildings on the strip appeared to be refurbished, and he suspected that the road itself had been paved one or twice, but it was undoubtedly the same area.

'Bugger,' said Ron. 'There's – there's an entire _building _here.'

'What d'you think it is?' asked Harry, gesturing toward the structure, which seemed to be mocking them.

His eyes ran over the electric fences, high concrete walls, and _no trespassing _signs. It was suddenly very clear that they would be in for an uphill battle. What were they going to _do_? He had expected it to be difficult to get the Horcrux, but he'd envisioned a different kind of challenge altogether. This wasn't going to be about getting past traps and jinxes; this was about getting past other people, people who would surely not be incredibly anxious to let three strangers into their obviously private building for a quick look-around.

'It looks like some sort of government building,' Hermione said. 'Or a military base. But what would either of those be doing here …?' She shook her head. 'I don't understand it. Oh! Look.' She pointed to the side of the building, past the fence. 'Guards. Muggles.'

'There are ways around them,' said Ron, holding out his wand.

'No,' said Harry. 'We can't do anything that'll draw attention. The only way is to take out the guards, and we can't risk getting spotted or caught, or worse, disarmed.'

'As if those Muggles could disarm us,' said Ron proudly. 'We've got wands.'

'And they've got guns,' Hermione replied. 'You don't want to go up against those. Trust me, you wouldn't win. None of us would. And besides, we _are not _using magic.'

Ron sighed heavily. 'Is it possible that this is just a museum or something, and the guards are only here to make sure nobody steals or breaks in?'

'This doesn't look like a horribly inviting museum,' said Hermione. 'Why have electric fences? No … this is something else entirely. I … I think there's more than meets the eye. Something doesn't feel right.'

'That's not our concern,' said Harry. 'We don't have any business with what's in there. We just need the Horcrux.'

'Excuse me,' Hermione said to a passing woman.

'Yes?'

'Could you tell me what that building is?' she asked, pointing to the unknown structure.

The woman looked puzzled for a moment. 'Um, I'm sorry?'

'There,' said Ron, extending his own arm and gesturing.

'I … I'm afraid I don't see anything,' the stranger said, and to her credit, the look she gave the pair was only one of mild trepidation.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. 'Oh, no,' said Ron. 'We meant … can you tell us what that building _was_? There used to be a building there before, right? Or are we just misinformed tourists?'

The stranger smiled. 'No. Of course. Um … actually, I'm not horribly sure … I think it used to be an orphanage a _long _time ago … but it was like this when I was little. Empty.'

Hermione nodded. 'Lovely. Thank you.'

The woman smiled and then continued on her way. 'Okay,' said Harry. 'Whatever this building is, it's definitely a magical one, and the Muggle elements are just in place to make wizards who look at it think it's Muggle and that everyone can see it.'

'So what do we do now?'

Bringing herself up onto her toes, Hermione put one hand on Ron's shoulder to steady herself. 'There,' she said. 'That truck.'

'What about it?' asked Harry, squinting. He could only just make out an unmarked truck pulling around to the back of the building.

'I think we just found our way in,' she said.

'How're we going to –?'

'Shh,' said Hermione. 'I've got an idea. If we're lucky … it just might work.'

'Just _might _work?' said Ron. 'I don't think that sounds too promising.'

'C'mon,' said Hermione. 'We need to get back to the room.'

……………………………………………………………


	41. 62442

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**I hate writing this story. It's been so drawn out, and even though I originally thought I had so many ideas, I'm starting to doubt myself and hate them all. The only reason I haven't deleted this entire thing is because I said a thousand times that I wouldn't. I'd just let someone else take over writing it, but I don't trust anyone to do it justice. Lately, I don't trust myself to do that either. **

**Chapter Forty-One: 62442  
**……………………………………………………………

'Wait –' said Ron. 'Say that again?'

'You have to hijack that truck,' Hermione said. 'Before it gets past the gates.'

'I – I can't drive a truck!'

'Honestly,' said Hermione, 'it can't be much more complex than flying a silly broom.'

'Why can't I just fly a broom over the fence?'

'That's what Harry and I will be doing,' explained Hermione. 'But you need to be _seen_. You can't just fly over the walls and then show up out of nowhere and not expect any of them to ask questions. In a place as heavily guarded as that one, someone will get suspicious.'

Ron looked nervously from Hermione to Harry. 'Why can't Harry do it?'

'No way, mate,' said Harry, holding up his hands. 'This is all you.'

Ron's shoulders slumped. 'Fine. But when we get caught, just remember that this job wasn't my choice.'

Hermione smiled encouragingly. 'You'll do fine,' she said. 'Far better than either of us, I'm sure. You're a much better liar than me. That much is clear.'

'Okay,' Harry said. 'So what's the rest of the plan?'

'Ron will drop off whatever shipment is in the truck. The truck was unmarked, so who knows what it'll be …' she said. 'We'll get inside under your Invisibility Cloak.' She gestured to the bed, where everything they'd brought was laid out. Several objects made up the pile, with many Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products resting on the top.

Ron ran a hand through his hair and glanced at them with uncertainty. 'The things I do for you two …' he muttered.

'We'll be needing this,' Hermione said, picking up the Omnioculars she'd taken from Harry's possessions. 'Judging by the outside appearance of that building, I'd be willing to guess that each door in there is locked and sealed with a security access code. Harry doesn't have his penknife anymore, right? I think if we can catch someone keying in their code, we can use the Omnioculars to get the code from the replay.'

'What else have you got in there, then?' asked Ron. 'Good thing you thought to dig through our things and pack stuff. We sure didn't.'

'Let's see …' said Hermione, digging through the pile and holding up several objects. 'A Put-Outer, Harry's Sneakoscope, my Revealer, a Secrecy Sensor, and a few of the twins' Shield Cloaks.'

Harry looked at her. 'Hermione, have I ever told you that you're brilliant?'

'Where'd you get a Secrecy Sensor?' asked Ron.

Hermione blushed. 'Well … I … on one of the last days of school, I had to report to Filch's office during rounds … and it was just sitting on his desk …'

'You knicked it from _Filch_?' Ron cried.

'I … you know, we're going to be putting it to much better use now than he would be if it was in his possession,' she justified.

'Did you steal the Shield Cloaks, too? And what about all the other products from the store?'

Hermione shrugged. 'They were left in the twins' bedroom at The Burrow. I assumed they weren't serving any particularly important purpose from their places under the bed. Ginny gave me them, actually. I thought some of them weren't going to be horribly useful, but I took them anyway to humour her … I suppose we owe her a rather large thank you, because they're all going to come in handy, it seems.'

Harry frowned at the mention of Ginny, but closed his mind to the images arising in his mind – Ginny at home, trying to calm a hysterical Mrs Weasley and absolutely livid McGonagall.

'Do I even want to know where you got the Put-Outer?' asked Ron.

'Probably not,' Hermione said with a small smirk, one that made Harry quite curious indeed where she'd gotten it.

……………………………………………………………

'Okay,' said Hermione. She nodded to Harry, who glanced at Ron.

'Ready, Ron?' asked Harry.

'Let's go,' said Ron.

Harry bit his lip in concentration and waved his hand. The truck sputtered and all four of its tires blew out. The street was deserted at this time of night, and even then, Hermione had insisted on using the Put-Outer.

The street was pitch black and without any lights, save for the truck's headlights, which illuminated the area just enough for the trio to find their way to it without incident.

It was a moment before the driver stepped out of the truck, and it was just long enough for Hermione to worry that they'd injured him. When he stepped out into the dim lighting, Hermione felt her stomach churn. He was – a _she_.

'Well,' said Ron in a hushed tone. 'That complicates things just a bit.'

'Hermione will have to do this part,' said Harry.

'_Me_?' asked Hermione. 'But I –'

'You know what you need to do,' said Ron. 'This is _your _plan.'

'But we'll get _caught_!' whispered Hermione frantically. 'I'm horrible at lying. Plus, I can't _drive_!'

'It was fine when I was the one doing it,' Ron said accusingly.

'That's different,' she said, though she knew it wasn't. Why was it fine for Ron to do it, but now that it was up to her, she was too afraid? It wasn't fair, and she knew that, but he just couldn't stop the awful feelings that were flying around inside of her.

She felt Ron nudge her lightly between her shoulder blades, politely but firmly urging her forward. She moved, but not before a fresh, strong sense of panic washed over her, and she nearly drowned in it.

She was going to do this, and do it well, because Ron and Harry needed her. Their safety – not just her own – depended on this going well. But she as still allowed to be frightened. Wasn't she? She had set out a very detailed list of rules for the three of them to follow, but never once had she told them, _you are not to be afraid_.

She swallowed thickly.

She could do this. If she just approached this as a textbook problem, and did it in steps, she could do this. She _would _do this.

'Go on, then,' she said faintly, and Harry sprung into action.

The _female _driver was unconscious before Hermione had even realized that Harry had done anything.

'Move,' he whispered, picking her up and pulling her back into the truck. When Hermione and Ron made it to his side, Harry had already using his wandless magic to gain access to the locked area in the back of the truck.

Hermione worked quickly to pull off the driver's uniform, and she was suddenly very aware of how horribly she was violating this woman. They had knocked her out, and now a stranger was undressing her.

If she felt awkward about undressing a stranger, it was nothing compared to how awkward it was to remove her own clothes in front of both Ron and Harry. Because the back of the truck was very cramped (it was, after all, loaded with unknown contents) there was very little space for the three of them to move. Harry and Ron could not turn away because they needed to watch for any signs of trouble, and so Hermione had no choice but to get nearly naked before them.

Ron had already seen her in this little, and Harry was showing some tact by not looking directly at her.

She was too nervous to care that her bra and knickers did not match.

……………………………………………………………

Harry used his wandless magic to awaken the woman, keeping her in something similar to a trance. In this state, she hadn't hesitated to answer any of the questions they'd posed, including _who are you_? and _what is in this truck_? and _what is the procedure you must follow upon delivering the items in this truck_?

As it turned out, this woman – Natalie – didn't have the slightest clue what sort of supplies she was delivering. _Drivers aren't entrusted with such information_, she'd said. They were merely used to get everything from one place to another.

Once Hermione was in position and began (slowly, and somewhat poorly) driving around to the back of the building, Harry and Ron slipped on the Invisibility Cloak and mounted Ron's broom.

'Think this place has a protective ward up?' asked Ron.

'I hope not,' Harry said, 'because we've got no other way in.'

They soon discovered that there was no protective ward up, and that the electric fence was nearly twice as high as it looked. They flew high into the air, and Harry was somewhat thankful for the unexpected turn of events, because Hermione probably would have fainted if she'd had to ride this broom.

They touched down on the other side of the fence, and their timing was ridiculously good, because a side door opened to greet the truck just as they'd finished hiding the broom in a bush.

They slipped through the door. The inside of the building was everything and nothing at once, and though Harry did indeed take in the high ceilings, marble floors, and fancy décor, he got the feeling he would not be able to recall such details once he left.

The layout was like a maze inside, and Harry knew that it was not an accident that he and Ron got lost. Every corridor looked the same, and none of the walls were marked with unique or identifiable paintings. A large plant occupied a square of space in each corner, and fancy chandeliers hung from the ceiling, but it was the same at every turn and Harry was beginning to get flashbacks to the Triwizard Tournament.

'Why are there no doors? And … Merlin, what _is_ this place?' he heard Ron whisper. He shook his head wordlessly, not even knowing how to describe it. There was a pull in the pit of his stomach that he recognized, surely, but from where? And what was it? Did Ron feel it too?

'Do you feel that?' he asked finally, unable to keep the tense silence.

'No. What?'

'It's –' Harry's voice died away when two men rounded the corner up ahead and began walking straight toward Harry and Ron.

'Is the shipment in, then?'

'Ned's getting it now. Have you got everything ready?'

'Just about.'

'Just about?'

'It'll be done.'

'It had _better_ be done.'

'It'll be done.'

'Severus had better be right about this.'

Snape.

These people were Death Eaters. All of them.

Harry was suddenly very interested in what they were talking about. So interested, in fact, that had Ron not carefully but forcefully pulled Harry out of the way, the men would've plowed straight through them.

'What the bloody hell was that about?' Ron whispered harshly, but instead of referring to the conversation they'd just heard, he was staring accusingly at Harry.

'I –'

'You almost got us caught! And for what? It doesn't matter what they're talking about, you said so yourself!'

'Let's follow them,' said Harry. Did Ron not hear? Or did he just not understand?

'They're gone, we're just going to get lost trying to find them,' Ron reasoned.

'We're already lost. Ron. I have to –'

Ron's angry sigh cut him off. 'Fine. But it'll be your fault if we die without getting this thing.'

Harry flinched, and decided not to add that it would already be his fault if that happened to any of them.

They turned and began to follow the men, but as Harry soon realized, they could have turned down several different corridors, and it would be impossible to decide which one was the right one.

Without warning, a door appeared and a man stepped out. Drawing his wand, he gave it a complicated wave and the door disappeared. He left, his dark robes billowing behind him as he rounded a corner.

'Whoa,' breathed Ron.

Was it really that there were no doors? Or was it that the doors would only appear for people who _belonged _in this building? If that was the case, Harry decided that he and Ron were in trouble.

A woman approached and tapped the wall twice in the exact place where a door had just been. Harry watched as a small keypad rose out of the wall, and hurried to grab the Omnioculars from his pocket in order to catch the code she was typing in.

He recorded it and gripped the Omnioculars tightly as the woman slipped inside. Would she be coming out any time soon? They couldn't stumble in unless they could be certain the coast was clear. Was it? Or would Harry be leading them both to their deaths?

Shortly after entering, the woman reappeared in the corridor holding a package and left.

'Replay it,' Ron urged.

Harry did. He played it once, then twice. The third time, he slowed it down. To be sure he was seeing the correct code. And he was not prepared for what he found.

Six … two … four … four … was that another two?

……………………………………………………………


	42. The Cup

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter – which I'm actually pretty glad for.**

**I know that the prophecy says Harry can't die until the Final Battle or something along those lines, _blah blah blah_. But I'm going to completely and shamelessly twist and change this fact to suit my own purposes. Good? Great.**

**Chapter Forty-Two: The Cup  
**……………………………………………………………

Ron felt Harry stiffen beside him.

'What is it?' he whispered. 'Let me see.' He took the Omnioculars, the metal warm and slick from Harry's hands. 'Didn't we get the code?'

'Yeah, we got it,' Harry whispered. 'It's six two four four two.'

Ron knew that those numbers meant something. Well, actually, he didn't. But the way Harry was acting … surely they held some sort of significance. A date? An address?

'But this … these people are Death Eaters …' Harry murmured.

'We know that,' said Ron. What was this all about? Was Harry _afraid_ of them? Harry wasn't afraid of anything.

'There are Death Eaters in the Ministry.'

Ron blinked. 'What?'

'The code, Ron,' he said. 'It's the Ministry code.'

The Ministry? _Oh_. But that would mean –

'Maybe it's just a joke,' Ron volunteered. 'These Death Eaters … I bet they've got a wicked sense of humour.'

'C'mon,' said Harry, ignoring him. He began to move forward, and Ron had no choice but to follow him, clutching the Cloak and trying not to think about what they would find behind the password-protected doors.

Harry punched in the code, six two four four two, and for a moment, nothing happened. Had it taken this long when the others did it?

The doors opened a moment later to reveal the inside of a lift.

Exchanging looks of confusion, Harry and Ron tentatively stepped inside. 'What floor d'you think?' asked Harry.

Ron shrugged, then reached out and pressed _B_.

The doors closed and the lift began to move, down and down until surely they were well underground. Without warning, the lift stopped moving and the doors opened to reveal a room cast almost completely in shadows. Ron could see only a few feet in front of his face, and could not make out any significant shapes. The air was musky and thick around them. There was a heavy blanket of silence and no indication that anyone else was down there. Really, there was no indication that anyone else had been down there in several years.

'Let's get started,' said Harry. He pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and held out his hand, his eyes closed in concentration. Small beams of light radiated out of his hand until the entire room was lit.

There were boxes everywhere, piled high on top of each other. A wardrobe lay on its side against the wall. Small objects, some broken and others charred, had fallen out of their boxes and now littered the floor. The rest of the building, with its plush decoration and spotless shine, did not even remotely resemble this tiny room. Everything was caked in dust and appeared to be at least twenty years old.

Ron felt certain that the contents of these boxes were from the orphanage.

……………………………………………………………

Hermione's hand shook as she reached for the door handle. 'Have a good night,' she said to the man, Ned, who had greeted her. She climbed back into the truck and fumbled with the keys for only a moment before the engine started up. Driving a car was far more complicated than she'd hoped. Luckily, she was a quick study, and so she didn't think it was horribly obvious that she'd never ever been in the driver's seat of a car before. She put the truck in reverse and held her breath as she backed up out of the gate and back onto the street.

She drove down to the end of the street and turned off the engine. She glanced down at Natalie, the real driver of this truck, hoping against hope that this was the last delivery the woman had to make for tonight. She really couldn't afford any slipups at this point.

She shifted in her seat to get comfortable, and then reached into her pocket for her wand. She didn't think she would need to use it, but she felt safer with it clutched in her hand.

Where were Ron and Harry now? Did they get inside all right? Had they been caught? Were they close to finding the Horcrux? Or were they both in serious trouble and desperately needing her help?

It occurred to her that in this moment in time, Hermione was out of touch with literally everyone. She had no way of contacting anyone she loved. She wished she could talk to Ginny. She wondered what could be going on at The Burrow right now and thought, fleetingly, that she shouldn't have let Ron be the one to write the goodbye note. At the very least, she should have read it over.

Hermione yawned and leaned back in her seat. Her head felt heavy and she was fighting to keep her eyes open. How could she be so tired at a time like this? Adrenaline should be coursing through her veins, promising her at least two or three more hours of consciousness.

Her eyes closed, and when she opened them twenty minutes later, there was still no sign of Harry and Ron. She'd thought that she should stay there and wait for them. But then again, how would they see her? It was pitch black. She wouldn't see them if they were crossing the street three feet in front of the truck.

It wasn't as if they'd know to look for her there, either. What if they went back to the hotel room, saw that she wasn't there, and assumed that something had happened and she'd been caught? What if they came back and did something stupid in a desperate attempt to save her, when really she was perfectly fine all along?

Making up her mind, Hermione nudged Natalie awake and got out of the truck. Using the Put-Outer, she turned the street lamps back on, and then Disapparated to the hotel room, hoping to find Ron and Harry waiting for her.

……………………………………………………………

Ron had shifted through so many broken Muggle toys and one-eyed teddy bears that when he finally did come across a tiny golden cup with a badger engraved on it, wrapped in a protective cushioning, he'd nearly tossed it back into the pile and continued searching. After all, he had never seen the cup. Harry had only described it. And even though Harry had been fairly detailed, the object in Ron's hands didn't look anything like what he'd imagined.

'Bloody hell,' he said, ignoring the pain in his knees and jumping to his feet. 'I think – is this it?'

Harry quickly appeared from behind a pile of random objects, a cloud of dust rising into the air with his movement. He coughed and said, 'Let me see.'

Ron moved toward him and Harry, upon seeing the cup, let out a barking laugh. 'You found it!' he said. He brought it up to his face and examined it from all angles. 'You found it.'

'We can get out of here, then?'

'Yeah. C'mon.'

Ron grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and

they threw it over themselves. There was a keypad on the wall, similar to the one they'd used before.

Hoping that nobody else would be in the lift, Ron typed in the code – which he hoped was the same as it had been upstairs – and was relieved when the doors opened to reveal an empty box.

They scrambled inside. 'What floor were we on?' asked Harry.

'I – does it matter?'

'That floor had doors to the outside. It was on the ground level. If we pick the wrong floor, we can't get out.'

'We could just go out a window,' said Ron.

'And fall to our deaths?'

'Right,' said Ron. 'Bad idea.'

Ron closed his eyes and tried to picture the outside of the building. There were five floors with windows. Plus the ground floor. The buttons went from _B _to _15_. Did that mean they needed to get to the tenth floor?

Deciding that if they were wrong, they could simply try again, Ron pressed _10 _and waited.

When the doors opened and the pair stepped out, they were in the same corridor they'd started out in. Had Ron chosen correctly, or did it only seem that way because every square inch of this place looked exactly the same?

There was a man standing just to Ron's right. He was looking around with an intense curiosity, and Ron thought that he must be wondering why the lift had moved on its own. Of course, he didn't know that Harry and Ron had just stepped out and were now standing a mere two feet away from him.

They began to walk slowly, and Ron hoped they were going the right way, though there wasn't really any way of knowing.

……………………………………………………………

Harry held the Cloak in place with his left hand and clutched the cup in his right.

They'd done it. They had the Horcrux.

Holding it in his hand was an amazing feeling. He wanted to rush home. He wanted to go to Hogwarts and tell Dumbledore that he'd done it. He wanted to rub it in the Order's face that he, Ron and Hermione didn't need to be treated like children – that they'd succeeded on their own. He wanted to tell Mrs Weasley to stop worrying, that everything had turned out all right and that they were safe and sound.

He wanted to tell Ginny that he was coming home.

He lowered his wall, but didn't get a response. He assumed she was sleeping. After all, it was rather late.

It started a moment later, a small twinge in his head that quickly grew to such intensity that he cried out.

Voldemort.

It was all-consuming, and he didn't realize that the cup had slipped out of his hand. He didn't realize that he'd fallen to his knees. He didn't realize that the Invisibility Cloak was no longer covering him.

As quickly as the pain came, it subsided. He gasped for breath and looked around to find Ron on the floor beside him, half covered by the Cloak, holding the cup just above the ground with the tips of his fingers. He was looking at Harry with wide eyes.

'Trespassers!' a voice cried, and before Harry could even realize what was happening, someone yelled out the spell he didn't recognize.

There was a blinding pain in his stomach, and then everything faded away.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny couldn't sleep.

She should be exhausted from arguing with her family every minute since Harry, Ron and Hermione had left. A part of her _was _exhausted, actually. But really, how could she close her eyes and sleep when Harry was facing so much danger at this very moment? How could she sleep when any one of the trio could be dying _right now_?

She wished Harry would open his mind to her. Even for a second. She was dying here without him. It was unbelievable how much she missed him. And he'd only been gone two days. What if searching for this Horcrux kept him away for another two days? Or a week? Or even more than that?

She closed her eyes and ordered herself not to think about what could be going on where they were. She wouldn't let herself imagine the danger. And she certainly wouldn't let herself imagine that they'd found the Horcrux and were currently on their way home.

Was it really all that difficult for Harry to lower his wall for just a minute and say, _Hey, Ginny, I'm not dead_?

It was common courtesy. She would do it for him. Surely he had to know that she would be a mess without any contact with him. Unless he was already dead, and that was why he wasn't communicating with her.

She was being too dramatic. She knew that he wasn't dead. If Harry had died, she would know. She would feel it, somehow. She knew that she would.

So he was alive. And yet, in these past two days, he had been completely unable to spare a moment to make her aware of that fact.

He was going to be in for it when he got back. This was ridiculous.

She should have fought harder. She should have forced him to let her go with them. She couldn't do this stupid _staying_ _behind_ thing. She wanted, just for once, to be included. To be treated equally. She was a bloody capable witch. Maybe not as capable as ever-brilliant Hermione, but she was just as capable as Ron. And she had a common sense that he often lacked. So, really, why couldn't she fight?

She was tired of this. Every second that Harry was gone was another second Ginny allowed herself to hate him. She would be one big ball of anger by the time he got back. And he'd give into her demands if he knew what was good for him.

Somewhere between missing Harry desperately and being absolutely furious with him, she drifted off to sleep.

She didn't dream. She barely slept, actually. She awoke shortly after to an awful headache, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. She sighed in relief when it stopped. But it was soon replaced with a stabbing pain all across her middle, one that made her fall back against the bed and writhe in pain.

And she knew, immediately, that it was Harry.

Panic gripped her, and as she jumped out of bed to wake everyone, she silently took back every bad thing she'd thought about him tonight.

……………………………………………………………

Harry collapsed backward onto the floor, and Ron didn't have time to think. He couldn't stop to wonder if there was an Anti-Disapparition Jinx on the building. He dove on top of Harry and Disapparated, not even sure if he was still holding the Horcrux, but knowing that it wasn't nearly as important as getting Harry out of there.

When Ron opened his eyes again, he was in the hotel room. He stood up and heard Hermione gasp.

'Ron! You're bleeding! What –?'

'It's Harry,' said Ron. 'They hit him with … I don't even _know _what. He passed out.'

Hermione dropped to her knees beside Harry. 'He's bleeding really badly.'

'He – he is?' Ron asked. He sounded like a child but he couldn't help it. Was it really that bad? It couldn't be. This was Harry. Harry didn't make stupid mistakes. He didn't get hurt. He passed out quite a bit, sure. But the only times he ever ended up getting _really _injured were during Quidditch matches.

'We have to get home,' Hermione said quickly. She grabbed her wand off the bed. 'He needs to go to St Mungo's.'

'He can't go there!' Ron cried.

'He has to!'

'It'll draw too much attention,' he argued. 'Damn it, Hermione, we can't.'

'We don't have a choice.'

'He'll be furious when he wakes up.'

'If we don't, he might not wake up,' Hermione whispered.

Something inside of Ron snapped. 'We'll take him to the Order. McGonagall can decide.' He grabbed Harry again and Apparated home to The Burrow, unsure if Hermione was following him. There wasn't enough time to care.

They landed roughly on the kitchen floor. It was better, he supposed, than hitting the table.

Hermione appeared smoothly beside him. 'HELP! IS ANYONE HERE? IT'S HARRY!' she cried, and really, she was doing nothing to help calm Ron's panic.

How would they get help in time? They needed to find McGonagall. Was she at Hogwarts? What about Headquarters? And even if they found her quickly, what could _she _do for Harry? They needed to get a Healer. Where would Audrey be? Or was Hermione right about St Mungo's? Harry would be angry, but Ron would take his friend's wrath any day of the week as long as it meant Harry lived.

Ginny tore into the kitchen, followed by the rest of the family, and if Ron hadn't been so wrapped up in the situation, he would have realized that it was far too quick of a response. They were all awake already. But why?

……………………………………………………………

Charlie awoke to the sounds of his sister screaming. He sprung out of bed and stepped into the corridor. Fred and George were passing him quickly, yelling his name for him to follow, and he did, unable to think of what could be wrong but knowing that it would have to be bad to evoke that type of fear from Ginny.

He followed the twins down the stairs and ended up outside of his mum and dad's bedroom. Ginny was there, looking smaller and more frightened than he could remember, hollering at the top of her lungs.

Mrs Weasley was beside her, telling her to calm down, insisting that she'd just had a nightmare.

'It's Harry,' she cried. 'It's not a nightmare! He's hurt! I need to help him –'

'Ginny,' Charlie said. 'Harry's got Ron and Hermione with him. I'm sure they're fine.'

He didn't know if he believed that. And he didn't know if he even cared about Harry's well-being after the argument he'd had with Ginny yesterday morning.

He knew he was being ridiculous. How could he resent Harry for the things Ginny had said, and yet not be able to resent Ginny herself?

It was quite simple, really. Looking at his sister right now, he saw the same scared girl who had been possessed by Tom Riddle in her first year. And this time around, who was to blame? Harry Potter.

'He's not fine!' she yelled. She turned to the twins. 'We have to do something!'

Fred and George exchanged looks. It was obvious neither of them knew what to do.

'How d'you know he's in trouble?' asked Charlie, hoping to point out how irrational she sounded.

'I just _know_,' she said angrily. 'Look, there's –'

'HELP!' a voice cried. There was noise coming from downstairs. 'IS ANYONE HERE? IT'S HARRY!'

It was Hermione's voice, and at the sound of it, Ginny turned and ran down the stairs. Everyone followed close behind, and when they came to the kitchen and saw the state of the trio, the only thing going through Charlie's mind was _how could she have known_?

'Oh,' gasped Mrs Weasley. She ran toward them and dropped onto the ground beside Harry.

Ginny let out a soft sob and lurched forward toward the trio, but Charlie grabbed her around the middle and held her back. She couldn't go there.

'_Harry_,' she cried, and for such a small girl, she put up quite a fight. She kicked against him, squirmed with all her might in an attempt to get free and go to Harry. He took a foot to the groin and a fist to the face, but he refused to let her go. If they were going to help Harry, they would have to act quickly. They couldn't deal with Ginny being an emotional wreck right now.

'Fred,' said Mr Weasley. 'Get Minerva.'

Fred ran to the fireplace and went to Hogwarts by Floo.

'George – go to Headquarters. Find Audrey and tell her to meet us in the Hospital Wing.'

George nodded and left.

Mr Weasley then pointed his wand at Harry. '_Mobilicorpus_.'

Harry, still unconscious, rose into the air and Mr Weasley led him toward the fireplace so they could Floo to Hogwarts.

Ginny continued to fight against Charlie. He felt like a prat keeping her restrained like this, but he couldn't let her go. She would want to be at Harry's side, and the Healers needed to work quickly if Harry was going to live. They couldn't have a hysterical girl yelling and crying and getting in their way.

'Let me go,' she cried. 'I have to go to him!'

'Ron!' he called, needing his brother's assistance. Surely, Ron would be able to calm Ginny down.

But when Charlie looked around, he realized that Ron had run after Harry, just as Ron would run after Charlie, Bill, Percy or the twins. He realized that Harry really was another brother to Ron – in fact, he was probably more a brother than Ron's _actual _brothers. And Hermione, the only one who would ever have a hope of getting Ron to listen to reason, had gone with him. Of course she had.

He wondered how he had spent so much time observing the three of them, and yet he had never managed to figure out that Harry's destiny was not just his own, that it was also Ron and Hermione's. And that if Harry fought, they would go. Because there really wasn't another option. When a part of you was fighting for life, the rest of you didn't stay behind. It _couldn't_.

'Get the fuck off of me, Charlie! I mean it!'

She went slack against him, and in all of his life, Charlie had never seen anyone so distraught.

'You can't be with him right now,' said Charlie. 'It – it doesn't look good, Gin, and –'

'_Shut_ _up_!' she screamed. 'Let me go! You bastard, let me go! I hate you for this!'

He let his sister go then, trying to comprehend what she'd just said, and she used the opportunity to run after Harry, Ron and Hermione.

……………………………………………………………


	43. Brothers

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Forty-Three: Brothers  
**……………………………………………………………

Ron's mum was talking and talking and talking, but he really couldn't begin to care about what she was saying. Harry was dying. Actually _dying_. And she seriously couldn't stop talking for just one minute and slip into a quiet, more manageable panic? Like Ron?

He was moving in slow motion. Everything was going a thousand miles a minute around him. He couldn't get perspective. This was Harry. His very best mate in the world. His brother. One of the most important people in his life. The bravest, strongest, most heroic person Ron had ever and would ever know.

And he was dying? Now? _Really_?

Ron couldn't wrap his head around it. He understood what dying entailed. His uncles had died. Sirius had died. Dumbledore had died. Hell, _he'd_ even "died" once. He understood that if Harry died, he would stop living. He wouldn't be around for a Quidditch game or two. He wouldn't be at breakfast or lunch or dinner. He wouldn't bother Ron about Hermione or sulk in the corner or snog Ginny. And even though all of those things irritated him, Ron couldn't imagine not having Harry around and doing them for the rest of their lives.

'What happened to him?' Mrs Weasley demanded. 'What did they do to him?'

'Molly,' said Mr Weasley. 'Calm down.'

'Calm down? Harry's lying there, half dead, and you're telling me to _calm down_?'

'Mum,' said Fred.

'No!' said Mrs Weasley. She sounded only half as hysterical as Ron felt. 'What happened to him?'

'That's what I'd like to know,' said Audrey. 'What was he hit with?'

'Ron?' Hermione said. She'd never sounded so desperate.

'What?' said Ron.

'What spell?'

'Spell? But I – I don't know.'

'You weren't there?' asked Audrey.

'I – yes, I was there,' he snapped. She had some nerve to even suggest that he wasn't there, right by Harry's side, right up until the very end. 'But I don't _know_. We were just walking and then he was on his knees, yelling. And then it – it stopped. And then these people were running toward us … I thought … I thought they'd just Stunned him or something. I didn't know he was bleeding. I didn't _hear_. I don't _remember_!'

He was rambling. But how could he stop? How could he explain that the sight of Harry, collapsing in pain, crying out in a way he'd never heard anyone cry out before, was so shattering that he could not even breathe, let alone stay aware of his surroundings? If his own mum had been the one who'd hurt Harry after that, Ron still wouldn't be able to pick her out of a lineup right now.

'Just help him!' cried Mrs Weasley. 'Stop looking at Ron! Get back to work! Save him!'

'Molly,' Mr Weasley said again. His calmness got to Ron in a way nothing else ever had. There was _nothing _about this situation that didn't call for absolute and total hysterics.

'Do you see him?' she said, rounding on her husband. 'Do you see Harry? You look at him and you tell me you don't feel the same as you would if that was Ron lying there.'

'I never said that –' began Mr Weasley.

'_Everyone_,' said McGonagall. Her voice cut through the room and demanded silence. 'I understand that this is a trying situation. But we cannot lose sight of what this is all about.'

What the bloody hell was she talking about? Lose sight of what this was all about? This was about Harry! What else was there?

'May I have the object in your hand, Mr Weasley.'

It took Ron a moment to realize that McGonagall was speaking to him and not his father.

'Huh?' he said. He didn't have anything in his –

He looked down and saw that his fingers were wrapped tightly around the cup. His knuckles were white from gripping it.

He half-handed, half-threw it to McGonagall, who held it close to her face and inspected it. 'Is this what I believe it is?' she asked. He wondered why she didn't just use the word _Horcrux_, why she was speaking so cryptically, and then remembered Audrey's presence in the room.

'Yeah,' said Ron.

'Shall we step out to perform the spell to dispose of it properly?'

Was she in the same room as Ron? Did she not realize what was going on just a few feet away from them?

The logical part of Ron's mind knew that McGonagall was just as shaken as any of them. It knew that she was trying to help Audrey by getting all of the hysterical Weasleys out of the way. But the logical part of Ron's mind, which was already probably smaller than it should have been, wasn't active just now.

'You – I – _what_? Harry might be dying and you think I give a damn about this – this – this _shite_? Are you bloody joking?'

'Ron –'

'Mr Weasley,' said McGonagall.

'No,' he said. 'I – I can't – we can't do this! Am I – am I the only one who realizes what's going on? Harry can't _die_. He can't. If he dies, that stupid cup is worthless. Nothing that you think is important matters right now. Do you _understand_ that?'

Mrs Weasley surged back into action. 'I – I demand some answers. Ron. Hermione. Tell us what happened to Harry!'

'Mum,' Ron yelled, his hands over his eyes. 'Just – shut up. Please!'

His mum withdrew, stung, and Ron couldn't feel angry or ashamed. He couldn't feel anything but concern for his best friend.

'Ron,' said Hermione, touching his arm. He felt like a prat for exploding on everyone. But what else was there to do?

'Harry can't die,' he repeated. 'He won't. It's just not possible.'

'Harry's not invincible,' whispered Hermione.

'Yes, he is!' cried Ron. 'Do any of you remember who we're talking about? It's not a story about the Boy who Lived or the Chosen One or whatever else they're calling him these days. This is Harry. This is _Harry_. He doesn't – he doesn't _have _any weaknesses. He doesn't get hurt. He doesn't ever make Mum panic this much! That's _my _job. He – this can't be real. It can't be.'

His voice cracked. He lowered his eyes to the floor. He couldn't believe he'd said all that. He probably sounded like some ridiculous child who obsessed over Mighty Harry Potter. But really, was there anything wrong with seeing Harry that way? It was pretty realistic, when it got right down to it.

Ron couldn't bring himself to look at Harry. He didn't think he could stand seeing him like this, stripped down to his boxer shorts. His glasses sitting awkwardly on his face and his skin pale as death.

Audrey worked for quite a while more. She may have asked more questions, but Ron didn't consciously hear any of them. It was amazing how everything seemed to blur together before his eyes, and when he blinked, all he could see was Harry's dirty face as he and Ginny emerged from the Chamber of Secrets. He saw Harry on his broom, rocketing toward the ground in search of the Snitch. He could hear Harry's voice, asking him all about the Wizarding World during the train ride in first year. Harry and a dragon during the Triwizard Tournament. Harry and Malfoy during their duel in first year. Harry in the Hospital Wing because Lockhart had magically removed all the bones from his arm. Harry eating Chocolate Frogs. Harry playing chess with him even though they'd already played five games and it was getting quite boring. Harry grabbing his Invisibility Cloak and suggesting they sneak down to Hagrid's Hut.

That was the Harry he knew. And for his life, he couldn't connect that Harry to the person lying in the hospital bed to his left.

It was possible for Harry to die. He'd already said it. But at the same time, it wasn't a possibility. It just couldn't be. Where would that leave Ron? His name was almost always said in the same breath and Harry's. Since they were bloody _eleven_. They'd been through everything. They'd gotten into fights, but they'd always gotten over it. And really, how many people out there would be willing to put up with him every day for nearly seven years and still want to be around him?

What if Harry and Hermione were the only ones?

He couldn't afford to lose one of them. They were everything to him.

Merlin, he loved Harry. Not the way he loved Hermione. Not the way Harry loved Ginny. But he loved Harry as much as he loved any of his brothers. Maybe more. Well, no, not more. But it seemed that way now, because Harry was in trouble and the rest of his family was safe.

It amazed him how this one single event could stand to alter his entire life. He'd known that he and Harry were putting themselves in a dangerous situation when they'd gone into the building looking for the Horcrux. He thought he'd realized that they would have a hard time and that they could die and _blah blah blah_. But realistically, the thought of losing Harry never entered his mind. Not for _real_.

Which was ridiculous, because Harry did so many dangerous things. And as morbid as it sounded, it was a miracle that Harry hadn't died already. He was a ticking time bomb. He really was. Ron would never work up the nerve to say it aloud, even to Hermione. But it was the _truth_. Wasn't it?

Ron knew he wasn't dreaming this right now. It had to be real. Because his mind would never come up with a scenario as awful as this on its own.

It felt like Ron's feet had just been knocked out from under him. The walls were closing in. The room was spinning. Or something else dramatic that could explain the awful feelings in his chest.

His heart was beating too fast.

Harry's heart could stop beating at any second.

He was going to be sick.

He had to sit down. He needed to keep moving. He had to get out of this room. He couldn't leave Harry. He had to do something useful. He was in such a state that he'd be good for nothing. His mind was racing. He couldn't think at all. His skin felt too small to fit his frame. He felt detached from his body altogether.

He looked up when Audrey cleared her throat.

'He's lost a _lot _of blood,' she said. 'There was some internal bleeding, too. It took quite a while to get it to stop.'

'So what does that mean for his recovery?' asked Hermione. 'How long will he have to stay here?'

Audrey paused for a moment. 'I'm going to ask again,' she said, looking at Ron. 'What was done to Harry?'

Ron opened his mouth, but Hermione beat him to it. 'Ron said he didn't know!' she said. 'Honestly! What else is there than that? He doesn't know.'

'Well, what were you doing right before this occurred? The more I know about this entire situation, the easier it'll be to treat Harry.'

Audrey was being nosey. She had already treated Harry to the best of her ability. Knowing about the Horcruxes wouldn't do anything to help him. If Ron thought that it would make even the smallest difference, he would have launched into a full-scale explanation ages ago.

He glanced at McGonagall, who did not appear to be horribly impressed with Audrey just now. Ron could understand being curious. He could understand that when someone was deliberately being kept in the dark, they would desperately want to know what the big secret was all about.

Still, no matter what, Audrey _could not know_. It just wasn't an option at this point. They were so close to getting rid of all the Horcruxes. They couldn't afford to have it all blow up in their faces by telling the wrong person. He didn't believe that Audrey was a spy or a Death Eater or anything else. But at the end of the day, Audrey had to look out for herself. And if she chose to go to Voldemort with that information, he would hate her indefinitely, but she would have legitimate reasons for doing so. Maybe.

'It's not important,' said Hermione. 'Just tell us – will he be okay?'

Audrey's posture stiffened. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'Harry is my patient, and I can only release his confidential medical information to family members.'

'You cow,' gasped Hermione. '_Tell us_.'

'Like I said, I can only disclose such details to family members. And since you aren't his family –'

Oh, McGonagall would never put up with that. Ron was rather anxious to see an all-out cat fight between Audrey and McGonagall.

A fight came – if it could even be called a fight – but not from McGonagall.

'I have been his family since we were _eleven_!' Hermione cried, and in a flash her wand was out and trained on Audrey. 'Don't you dare say otherwise. You're going to tell me _right now_ what is happening to him. Or you'll be in the bed beside him. I know some nasty hexes. Do you want to test me?'

'Hermione,' said Ron warningly.

Since when did _he_ warn _her_ to watch her step?

Who was this girl? It wasn't the Hermione he recognized. It was as if she was possessed. There was a fierce look in her eyes, a colour in her cheeks, and it occurred to Ron that Hermione was just as concerned for Harry as he was. Of course she was. They were in this together, the three of them. And maybe they had a daunting task ahead of them, maybe it seemed hopeless at times, but they had each other. They had a lot more than most people did. He wished Harry would wake up. He didn't think his friend would believe him later if Ron told him that Hermione had threatened to seriously harm Audrey.

'Tell me. Now. How long will he have to stay here?'

'Right now, I'd say about two weeks,' said Audrey finally. She turned her gaze back to Harry. She at least had the grace to look embarrassed at her previous behaviour. 'But it could be less.'

Less than two weeks! It couldn't be all _that _serious then.

'It could be longer, as well,' she added. 'Complications could arise. And magic and potions can't cure everything in a day or two. However, I see no reason why Harry won't be up and about soon.'

Ron felt so relieved that he could not even express it in a single insignificant act. He couldn't sigh. He couldn't smile. He couldn't even speak. He would move mountains if he could. He would fight all of the Death Eaters in England. He would fly without a broom.

It occurred to him, randomly, that he would need to learn how to do that if he was going to be flying anywhere from now on. They'd left his broom behind. It was still in the bushes where they'd hidden it. Ron realized that there would come a day, probably someday soon, where he would need that broom for something, and he would be annoyed that he'd lost it. But right now, all he could feel was overwhelming happiness that Harry was going to be all right.

'Thank you,' McGonagall said. 'Now, I must ask that we leave Miss Fiske alone to tend to Harry. May I see everyone else in the Headmaster's office?'

Everyone reluctantly piled out of the Hospital Wing. Ron spotted Ginny sitting in a ball on the floor just outside the entrance, and it was then that he truly noticed her absence from the previous events.

'Gin,' he said.

Ginny sniffed. 'He's dead,' she whispered. 'Isn't he?'

Ron knelt down beside her. 'No,' he said. '_No_. Harry's fine. He'll be fine.'

She studied his face for a moment, as if searching for a sign that he was lying to her. 'But I – I can't feel him anymore,' she said.

'What d'you mean?'

Ginny took a breath. 'There's something I've got to tell you …'

'Mr Weasley,' McGonagall called. 'Miss Weasley.'

'Yes, Professor?'

'I ask that you please join the rest of us.'

Ron nodded and glanced back at Ginny. 'Can it wait?' he asked.

Ginny shrugged. With a hand from Ron, she got to her feet. She seemed so tiny beside him, smaller than usual, and he automatically put his arm around her as they walked. Not that she needed his help. His sister was strong, that was for sure. Nobody could deny that.

Upstairs, McGonagall sat the Hufflepuff cup on Dumbledore's desk. 'This is the Horcrux?' she asked.

Ron nodded. 'I sure hope so,' he said. 'No bloody way we're going back there, even if it isn't.'

McGonagall waved her wand around and said that foreign but by now somewhat familiar incantation. It seemed like it took ages for her to finish. Ron tightened his grip on Ginny as they waited for any sort of reaction. Questions ran through his mind, the same as always. What if this wasn't the real Horcrux? What if they'd gone through all of this for nothing?

But the purple glow came, and even though it was a small comfort, it was good to know that Harry hadn't gone through all of that for absolutely nothing. He would be pleased as all hell when he awoke. That was the thing with Harry – his well-being never quite mattered to his as much as the war and the Horcruxes and Voldemort.

'Can we go back downstairs now?' asked Ginny.

McGonagall nodded softly. 'Yes, Miss Weasley,' she granted. Ron, Ginny and Hermione immediately moved toward the door. 'Mr Weasley. Miss Granger. I am afraid you two must remain here. After all, we have not yet heard the story of how you came into possession of this latest Horcrux.'

'You can wait,' grunted Ron, and before anyone could think to protest, the three of them were gone.

Audrey wasn't there when they got back to the Hospital Wing. Whether she had stepped out temporarily or would be gone for the remainder of the night, Ron didn't know. He hoped she wouldn't be coming back anytime soon, though. Right now, he just wanted to sit with Harry, undisturbed.

He pulled up a chair at Harry's bedside. Hermione sat in a chair beside his, and Ginny was on the other side of the bed, Harry's fingers entwined with her own. Ron knew then – with a sort of realization that sometimes dawned on him at the strangest of times – that he would never, not _ever_, be in better company than he was right now. He smiled at the three and tried to take from this situation all of the good things that it offered. The trio was back home. They'd found one of the last remaining Horcruxes. And Harry would be fine, though it may take a week or two for him to be fully healed.

'What did you have to tell me before?' asked Ron.

Ginny did not blink, and so he knew it would be important. 'Right. I know we probably should have told you a while ago, but it just didn't seem like a good idea. You can't freak out –'

'You'd better not be pregnant,' said Ron immediately. He wasn't even sure if he really thought that was possibly what she was going to say. It was just a reflex. He'd been a big brother for too long to get out of habit now.

Ginny rolled her eyes, but didn't stop. 'Sweet Merlin, no,' she said. 'Look. When you three got back to The Burrow tonight and Hermione started yelling for us to help … we were already awake. I'd woken everyone up because I knew that you would be coming and that Harry would need help.'

Hermione breathed deeply. 'How could you have possibly known that?'

'I was sleeping,' explained Ginny. 'And when I woke up, my head was killing me. It felt like it'd been cracked open. And then I felt this awful pain in my stomach. I knew it was Harry because – because we're in each other's heads.'

Ron didn't react. He didn't know _how _to react. Was she kidding?

'What?'

'We're in each other's heads,' she repeated. 'I can hear his thoughts. And he can hear mine.'

'What?' asked Ron. Was she actually being serious? This was real?

'Stop saying that,' said Hermione. 'How?'

'Oh, because that's so much better,' mumbled Ron, but still, he waited for Ginny's answer.

'We don't know,' she said. 'One day my thoughts were my own and then the next … they just weren't. I mean, they're still my thoughts. But now I'm not the only one listening to them. We can hear everything. We can communicate. You know, without words.'

'So … wait,' Ron said. 'You know about _everything _going on in Harry's mind?'

Ginny nodded.

'And that doesn't get him in trouble?'

'Well, it did at first!' said Ginny. 'But it's been so long. We can control it now.'

'What d'you mean?'

'We have these … mental walls,' she explained. 'We can raise and lower them when we need to. We mostly keep the walls up. I mean, I don't think either of us really cares to hear what the other's thinking about all day long. But if I want to talk to Harry, I'll lower my wall. And he can feel it in his head – it's this kind of nudging sensation, like someone's trying to gain access to your mind – so he'll lower his, too. Or vice-versa.'

'What if he doesn't want to talk to you?' inquired Ron. Was it wrong that he found this semi-amusing?

'Then he doesn't lower his.'

Really? Ginny could really read Harry's mind?

'So do you two have the same dreams and stuff?' he asked.

'No,' she said. 'It doesn't work when one of us is asleep.'

'Then you can't sense him right now?' said Hermione, and Ron made the connection with what Ginny had said earlier about not being able to feel Harry.

'Right now …' said Ginny. 'Right now, Harry's gone. Completely gone. It's not the same as when he's just sleeping … I don't even think I could put my wall down and reach him if I tried.'

'Will it come back?'

'I have no idea,' she said. 'I hope. I can't – I never thought I'd feel lonely because the only thoughts running around up in my head were mine. But I do.'

'Just lower your, er, wall … can't you try?' asked Ron. 'What's the worst that could happen?'

'That's the thing,' Ginny said. 'I can't lower it. I can't even … locate it. It's hard to explain. I could never do it before Harry was in my mind because I didn't have a wall there. There was nothing I was blocking out. And it feels like that now. That's why I thought Harry was dead. But maybe he's just … gone. You know, from my mind.'

'Maybe he'll come back,' suggested Hermione.

Ginny nodded slowly. 'Yeah. Maybe. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you two. Harry and I sort of agreed that we wouldn't. But … I think earlier, when my head hurt … I think that was Voldemort. I think he was trying to get into Harry's mind, but … he got more than he bargained for because he ended up in mine, too.'

Ron could see it replaying in his mind's eye – Harry, crying out and falling to his knees, hands pressed against his forehead.

'I think you're right, Gin,' he agreed.

'Does Harry know that you're telling us this?' asked Hermione. 'Have you two talked about it?'

Ginny shook her head. 'The thing is … we kind of promised that it would stay between us. But it can't anymore. This connection, if it comes back, is going to help keep him safe. I know it will. Just like it would have tonight, if you two hadn't been there for him already.'

'You think?' asked Ron.

'Harry is determined to win this war at all costs,' said Ginny. 'It doesn't matter to him if he lives or not. As long as Voldemort goes down. He's fighting for everyone else. So it's up to us to fight for _him_.'

'I'll do whatever it takes,' Hermione agreed. 'I can't imagine a world without him.'

Ron nodded his agreement.

Harry would live through this war. He would marry Ginny and officially become his brother. Their kids would grow up together. They would take trips to foreign places, like Romania and America, and this time, they would get to enjoy it. Harry would die a long, _long _time from now, old and absolutely fulfilled.

Ron simply would not accept anything less for his best friend.

……………………………………………………………


	44. Revelation

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Forty-Four: Revelation  
**……………………………………………………………

It had been two days, and Ginny didn't stray very far from the Hospital Wing. Harry still hadn't woken up, but she was hoping that he would soon. Perhaps her mum would tone it down a notch if she had some sort of reassurance that Harry was indeed going to make a full recovery.

Mrs Weasley had been operating at warp speed for the last forty-eight hours. She was in and out of the Hospital Wing every few hours, and each time she returned, she carried with her a new message from Audrey. Between still running the house and helping out with the Order and fussing over an unconscious Harry, it amazed Ginny that her mum still had enough energy to yell at Ron and Hermione. But she was a Weasley, and so it made sense that she would schedule time for conflict.

Judging by the stories she heard from Ron and Hermione, Ginny was almost relieved that she was spending most of her time at Harry's bedside.

'It's bloody ridiculous,' Ron told her. The three of them were sitting around Harry's hospital bed. 'We're getting up early every morning and doing _chores_. She won't even let me go to training! And she won't let us out of her sight for more than twenty minutes because she thinks we're going to leave again. As if we'd leave without Harry!' He sighed dramatically and leaned back in his chair. 'Tell her, Hermione.'

Ginny looked to Hermione, who shrugged. 'It is rather annoying,' she said. 'But we _did _take off without telling her. To be fair –'

'None of this is fair,' Ron complained. 'I'll be eighteen in a few months. I don't need someone following me around all bloody day long.'

Hermione sighed. 'We left without saying a word,' she said. 'I'm sure she was worried sick. Your mum has gone through a lot lately. She has a right to want to keep you close. Especially after … what happened.' She trailed off, but it was no wonder to anyone what Hermione meant.

'Oh, so it's my fault?' he snapped, standing up. Hermione stood up as well, her eyes wide.

'I never said that!'

'You didn't have to say it!'

'Ron –'

'Admit it,' he said. 'You think the reason my mum's a mess is because she thought I was dead before. Go on, say it! It's my fault!'

'Would you both shut up?' Ginny demanded.

'She's right,' said Hermione. 'We don't have time to fight. We have to start looking for the next Horcrux.'

Ron crossed his arms. 'It doesn't matter. We can't do anything until Harry wakes up, anyway.'

'We might have to,' she said.

'_What_?'

'He's going to need quite some time to recover. And who knows when he's going to wake up. We might have to keep looking without him,' said Hermione, and Ginny winced. She didn't want to think about how long it would take Harry to get back on his feet. And she knew that Ron didn't, either. He was quite unresponsive to the idea of Harry being anything other than perfectly okay when he awoke. In fact, Ginny thought that bringing this sort of thing up right now would probably start another fight between the two of them.

'We can't go anywhere without Harry.'

'We can and we probably will,' she argued. 'Honestly, if you don't start –'

'Damn it, Hermione! You want to boss us around like always, but we aren't eleven anymore! Harry is in charge here – not the Order and not my parents and not _you_!' cried Ron. 'Harry's seen things – done things – that I can't even imagine. Things that you've never read about in any of your stupid books. We don't know, and he does, so we're going to listen to _him _and do what _he _tells us to. Because we're all going to die if we don't.'

'I'm not going to sit on my hands and feel absolutely helpless because my name isn't Harry Potter! This war is about more than that!'

'This war is about Harry and Voldemort,' argued Ron. 'Harry _is _the war! He doesn't get to run away and hide when it gets tough!'

'Neither do we!' screamed Hermione.

'Yes, we do! We never would. But if it came down to it, with Voldemort – if there was a moment when we absolutely had to run – we could go and it wouldn't change the outcome of anything. There's a _difference_ between us and him. There always has been.' His voice broke. 'Harry … he doesn't get the choice like we do.'

Ginny bowed her head, because it was an awful thing to think about. What her brother had just said – these were the thoughts that ran through her mind all the time. That kept her up at night. That made her lose her appetite. Verbalizing them – hearing _Ron_, of all people, verbalize them – was too much.

This was all true, but only on the condition that Harry woke up. What if Harry never woke up? She fought for her breath at the idea of Harry being like this forever. Try as she did, she could not get herself to care that the Wizarding World would be doomed without Harry Potter to save them. She could only think of herself, and how she wouldn't be able to survive if Harry wasn't there with her.

'So you – you have to respect that. And you have to respect the fact that you might be a hell of a lot smarter than Harry and me combined, but you still can't do a bloody thing without him.'

'Ginny,' Harry groaned.

She felt her heart jolt, and suddenly the moment was forgotten. It didn't matter that Ron and Hermione were arguing over _serious things_, instead of just their regular pointless disagreements over whether or not a book about Quidditch could be considered literature.

'Harry,' she said, blinking furiously. She wanted to make sure this was real. Had she fallen asleep? Not likely, given the noise Ron and Hermione had been making.

Ron and Hermione were at Harry's beside immediately, and the only indications of their fight were Ron's flushed cheeks and Hermione's shining eyes.

'Ginny,' he repeated, his eyes pressed tightly closed. 'You're killing my hand.'

She looked down, actually surprised to see her hand, knuckles white, gripping Harry's.

She loosened her grip but didn't let go. Harry was awake. _Finally_. Was she the only one who thought it seemed like years since she'd seen the colour of his eyes?

'How are you feeling?' she whispered.

He looked at her. 'This is where I act really tough and say I feel fine,' he said, his smirk faint but there, and she melted. 'What happened?'

Ginny looked to Ron for the answer. She'd heard the story told so many times, but she never gave it the chance to sink in. All she knew was that Harry had been hurt. Because none of the other facts had mattered.

'You tell me,' said Ron. 'One minute you had the Horcrux and we were about to get the hell out of there, and the next you were on your knees yelling your bloody head off.'

Harry's eyes closed briefly. 'Voldemort,' he said. 'I forgot. He was in my head … like that time at the Ministry … I must have collapsed.'

'I'd say,' said Ron. 'The Invisibility Cloak came off you and someone saw you, so they fired a spell and sliced you up real nice.'

'So that's why I feel like I've been cut in half,' he muttered. 'What happened then?'

Ron shrugged. 'I grabbed you and got the hell out of there.'

'_What_?' Harry cried, sitting up. He winced.

'Lay back down,' Ginny ordered, getting to her feet.

Harry didn't move. 'What about the Horcrux?' he asked. 'Ron – tell me you grabbed it before you grabbed me.'

'Don't be ridiculous!' said Hermione. 'You come before any stupid Horcrux!'

'_No, I don't_,' Harry snapped. He looked at Ron, whose expression changed dramatically. 'Well?'

'Yeah, we got it,' Ron mumbled, and he didn't sound half as pleased as Ginny thought he should.

'Thank Merlin,' Harry said. He frowned. 'Bugger. We left the Invisibility Cloak behind.'

Ron shook his head. 'No, we got it. It was tangled up with us when we Apparated to the hotel room. Hermione and I went back yesterday to get all of our things and check out … I found it and brought it back.'

'Oh,' said Harry. 'Thanks.'

Everything Audrey had instructed Ginny to do came rushing back to her, and she reached for a potion. 'Drink this,' she said, holding it out for Harry.

He stared at it for a long while before drinking it, and then appeared to be fighting his gag reflex after he'd swallowed. 'Disgusting,' he complained, lying back down.

There was silence for a moment. Ginny closed her eyes and wished for the ability to communicate with Harry again. Where had their connection gone? Shouldn't it have come back when he'd woken up?

She couldn't even believe how empty her head felt now, without Harry's thoughts mingling with her own. How could she have become so addicted to Harry? They hadn't even kept their walls down very often. She regretted that now. She should have known that their gift would be only temporary. She should have savoured it, instead of ignoring it and treating it as though it was a strange inconvenience.

As if Harry was reading her mind – which, she realized with a pang, was no longer possible – he looked at her with startled eyes.

'How come I can't –?' he asked, and then trailed off. Ron and Hermione were with them, and as far as Harry knew, neither one of them knew anything about their connection.

'I don't know,' she whispered. 'I can't either. Not since you were hurt.'

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks, and Ginny knew that they both understood what she and Harry were talking about. She hoped Harry had missed their expressions. At the time, she'd thought telling Ron and Hermione was the best possible move. Now, though, she had to wonder what would happen when Harry found out that she'd told. Hadn't they agreed not to tell anyone? Would Harry understand if she explained that he was unconscious and she was terrified? Would he realize that Ginny had known Harry was hurt and she would eventually have to explain to _someone _the real reason why she'd known? Or would he be furious with her? Would he push her away like he always did?

Harry's jaw clenched. 'It'll change,' he said, and she recognized the panic in his voice because it matched her own. 'It has to.'

Ron cleared his throat. 'We should probably go tell Mum that you're awake,' he said. 'And Lupin. They'll want to come by.'

Harry nodded. 'Can you try to stall, though?' he asked.

Ron looked from Harry to Ginny. 'Yeah,' he said. 'I'll try.'

Ginny watched Ron and Hermione leave. Harry sat up again, and she didn't try to have him lay back down. 'C'mere,' he said, shifting in his bed to make room for her.

She climbed into bed next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. 'Does it hurt?' she asked.

'Not that much,' he said. 'That potion helped.' She sniffed. 'What is it?' he asked.

'It's nothing,' she said, but it wasn't _nothing_. It was something. 'I just … you were bleeding so badly. Hermione was crying and … and Charlie said you'd … I thought you were going to …'

She let her voice die out. She couldn't bring herself to say the words, especially not in front of Harry.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, and held her tightly in his arms as she let herself cry.

……………………………………………………………

'All right,' said Bill. Charlie's head snapped up. 'What the hell is wrong with you?'

He and Charlie had both been home at The Burrow for the better part of two days, and Charlie had spent every second of those two days sulking. Whatever was the matter with him, it was starting to get on Bill's last nerve.

Charlie looked away. 'She said she hated me,' he said.

'Who?'

'Ginny. The other night, when Harry was hurt and I wouldn't let her go after him. She told me she hated me.'

'She was worried about Harry,' Bill told his brother. 'She doesn't hate you.'

'You didn't hear her. The way she said it. She hates me.'

'She doesn't. She couldn't.'

'Then why would she say it?'

'Oh, like you've never said anything you didn't really mean?' asked Bill. 'Listen here, little brother. If I had a Knut for every time you said you hated me when we were kids, I would be a rich, rich wizard today.'

'We were kids,' Charlie argued. 'Ginny's sixteen.' Merlin, Bill was just trying to be a good brother and cheer him up. But Charlie was really making it hard on him.

There was an awkward silence. Bill knew that Ginny didn't hate Charlie. In fact, he was positive that Charlie knew this as well. There was something else bothering him. Something Charlie wasn't saying. Part of him wanted to be a good brother and listen. Another part of him wanted to leave, because Charlie was acting like a poof.

'Did you know they're sleeping together?'

'Who?' asked Bill. Conversations with Charlie seemed to jump all over the place.

'Harry and Ginny.'

Bill's eyes widened. 'How do you know? You didn't – _ew_, you didn't walk in on them, did you?'

'Merlin, no,' said Charlie. 'I just know that they are. Haven't you seen them together? They must be.'

Bill shrugged. He wasn't sure that Charlie was right. But either way, what did it matter?

'So? What do you want from me?'

It wasn't that Bill didn't care, because he did. He cared about the important things – like whether or not Ginny and Harry were being smart and safe. But ultimately, it wasn't his place to pry. Despite what Charlie obviously thought, Bill knew that Ginny was old enough to make her own decisions.

'What I _want _is for you to care just a little bit that our baby sister – who's only _sixteen_ – is already sleeping with her boyfriend!' snapped Charlie. 'This is Harry's fault. I know it is.'

Bill laughed outright. 'Harry? Now I know you've lost it.'

'I wouldn't put it past him.'

'_I _would,' said Bill. 'Ginny is no angel. She never has been. She's always taken after the twins. And anyway, I seem to remember you being quite popular with the girls at sixteen. You mean to tell me that when you were her age you hadn't ever –?'

'It's different!'

'Why? Because she's a girl? You didn't do it alone, you know. Or maybe you did …'

'It's different,' said Charlie, 'because Harry is not going to be around when this is all over! Ginny – she's going to _die _without him. As much as I hate to admit it, they aren't exaggerating or putting on a show when they're around the rest of us. Hell, when they're together, they don't even realize the rest of us are there. They're in love. And Ginny's going to be crushed in the end.'

Bill frowned. Since when was Charlie so pessimistic about this war? Couldn't he put on a brave face and tell himself that everything was going to be all right? That was what Bill was doing. That was what they all were doing. Because the fact that Harry was just a boy going up against one of the most powerful wizards in history was something they were all in denial about. Bill would never say it aloud. He barely allowed himself to think it. And it had worked so far.

'Ever heard that it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?' he asked.

'Whoever said that obviously wasn't referring to his little sister,' Charlie muttered, and then walked away.

……………………………………………………………

The next two days progressed slowly for Harry. He didn't fancy being stuck in the Hospital Wing for two weeks, and had already gotten Audrey to agree to release him after just one, promising that he would relax and take it easy at The Burrow. If it was up to him, he would get up out of his bed that very moment. Really, though, he knew that Mrs Weasley would never let him. And he would force himself to obey her, because he'd put her through enough lately.

He'd never tell them, but he'd heard practically everything Ron and Hermione had been arguing about. It was probably their shouting that finally woke him up, actually.

He'd heard Hermione insist that she and Ron continue to look for Horcruxes without Harry. And he'd heard Ron explain to her that they needed Harry, because Harry _was _the war and because Harry was the only one who didn't get to choose whether or not he fought.

Strangely enough, the part that had bothered Harry the most wasn't what Ron had said, but what Hermione had said. He knew that his friends would never desert him. But the thought that Hermione hadn't wanted to wait for Harry to recover … it was hard to handle. Ron and Hermione were already independent from Harry in so many ways. Growing up, they had always been the trio. But now, Ron and Hermione were a _couple_. That meant that Harry had to give them space and alone time. He didn't mind that so much, because it meant he got to spend time with Ginny without having to feel like he was ditching them.

It was different, though, because Harry had finally just begun to accept that his friends would be with him every step of the way, as opposed to him doing this by himself, and suddenly they were jumping ship and trying to do everything without him. Since when was Harry an expendable part of the war? He _wasn't_. He was one of the most important players in this war. Ron and Hermione were the expendable ones. He didn't _want _to play the role he did, but his hand had already been dealt and he had to see it through no matter what. Ron and Hermione didn't.

He was glad that Ron had said what he said. At least Ron had thought about it and understood that even though he and Hermione would want to fight alongside Harry for everything, they wouldn't be able to. At least Ron realized that there would come a time that Harry would have to stand on his own and face Voldemort alone. At least Ron accepted that Harry – and only Harry – was destined for this.

He felt a twinge in his scar and frowned. He'd been getting pains in his scar on and off since the night he'd sensed Voldemort. He couldn't understand _why _he'd felt Voldemort that night, away. His scar hadn't hurt for quite some time now. In fact, he could hardly remember the last time it had so much as throbbed.

So why now? What had made Voldemort so furious? Did he know that Harry and Ron had found the Horcrux? Was it possible?

It was obvious that Voldemort knew some of the Horcrux had been destroyed. Riddle's diary was common knowledge. It was even possible that Voldemort knew the locket had been stolen by Regulus. And Snape had known about the ring Dumbledore found … Harry was certain that Snape had run straight to Voldemort and told him.

But did Voldemort know that Harry was looking for the rest of the Horcruxes himself? Did Voldemort even know that Harry knew? Would he assume that Dumbledore had told him? Had Dumbledore told Snape, who told Voldemort?

Those were only a few of the possibilities. Perhaps it was something other than anger that Harry had felt. Was Voldemort happy? Normally, Harry could distinguish between the two. But this time, it had just been a blinding pain on Harry's part. There was no emotion tied to it.

'Is something wrong?'

Harry looked up to find Ron and Hermione watching him.

'No,' he said. 'My scar hurts a bit. But I'm fine.'

Hermione frowned. 'How long has it been hurting?'

'Not long,' Harry said.

'Can you feel Voldemort?' Ron asked.

'No,' Harry said, and it was only a half-lie. Ron was asking if he could feel Voldemort _through his scar_. And the answer, in his opinion, was no. But he'd be lying if he said that there wasn't an occasional thought in his mind – a rush of feeling in his veins – a tingling in his fingertips – that did not come from himself.

'What is it?' questioned Hermione. 'What aren't you telling us?'

'I don't know,' Harry said. He sighed. This was Ron and Hermione. He told them everything, and he could tell them this. 'I just – sometimes, I feel like that's a –'

The words died on his tongue. He finished the sentence in his mind. _Like there's a part of Voldemort inside of me_.

'What is it?' Hermione asked again.

He said nothing. He couldn't say anything even if he wanted to. It was as if a force greater than any magic he knew of was controlling his body as he jumped out of his bed and ran out of the Hospital Wing. He was sure Ron and Hermione were running after him, but he couldn't possible stop to explain things now. There wasn't enough time. There would never be enough time.

His mind was racing. He needed a minute to stop and think. He needed to sort out all of his thoughts. But Hermione would never keep quiet long enough for him to actually do that. Already, behind him, he could hear her muttering to Ron that being out of bed wasn't good for his recovery.

No, he wouldn't let them catch up. Because then he'd have to explain everything to them, and he wasn't even sure he understood this himself. He needed to talk to Ginny. She would listen. She would help him sort this out. He needed to get to The Burrow right away so he could talk to her in private.

He ran up to Dumbledore's office to use the fireplace. He stopped in his tracks when he heard his former Headmaster call his name.

'I see that you are in a hurry,' Dumbledore said, 'and forgive me for delaying you, but is there anything that I may be able to assist you with?'

Harry turned to regard Dumbledore, struck with the thought that his old Headmaster, of all people, would be the best to ask about this. If anything, Dumbledore had probably considered this scenario a thousand times before. Harry could hardly believe _he _hadn't considered it before. But despite how many nights Harry had spent in this office with Dumbledore talking about the Horcruxes, Dumbledore had never said one word to Harry about _this_.

How could he not have addressed it?

It suddenly occurred to Harry that Dumbledore's best option had been to never breathe a word of his suspicions to Harry, to merely keep him close by and keep tabs on him to see what would happen. _That _was why Dumbledore had always asked him if his scar had been hurting, if he could sense Voldemort's emotions.

Had Dumbledore taken him under his wing, spent night after night telling him that this war had to be ended _at all costs _– relentlessly drilling that fact into his mind – simply because of _this_?

Betrayal and anger coursed through him, and he thought, fleetingly, that Dumbledore was bloody lucky he was dead, because Harry surely would not hesitate to kill him in this moment.

Ron and Hermione were there, behind Harry now, but he paid them no notice. 'I think you've already done enough, Professor,' Harry spat, and then used the fireplace to get to The Burrow before he could do something he thought he might regret much later.

Lunch was still going on at The Burrow, and all of the Weasley's (minus Ron) were seated around the kitchen table. McGonagall, Tonks and Lupin were also there. Mrs Weasley was the first to look up upon Harry's arrival, and she immediately stood and went to him. 'Harry!' she scolded. 'You're supposed to be resting!'

'I need to talk to Ginny,' he said, his voice sounding mechanical to his own ears. 'It's important.'

Over Mrs Weasley's shoulder, Harry could see that Ginny was coming over to them, her features twisted into a mask of concern. 'Harry –'

'It'll have to wait until later,' Mrs Weasley said. 'You need to get back to bed. Ron, Hermione! Didn't either of you think to stop him?'

'You know Harry, Mum,' said Ron. 'Impossible.'

'What's going on?' asked Ginny, who finally managed to sidestep her mum and face Harry. She put a hand on his cheek. 'You're shaking …'

He was? Yes, now that he looked down at his hands, he could see that they were, indeed, shaking.

'I – I have to tell you something,' he whispered.

'What is it?' she asked.

Harry looked around the room, noticing that every eye was training on him. Could he really just blurt it out in front of everyone? 'I can't say it here,' he said. 'It's about the Horcruxes.'

'Okay,' she said. 'Let's just go upstairs, then.'

'Hold up,' Charlie said. Perhaps it was Harry's frazzled demeanor, or Ron and Hermione's matching frowns of confusion and worry, or even Fred's off-colour joke about what the two would do upstairs – but whatever it was, Charlie did not seem exceptionally keen on letting the pair out of his sight. 'Everyone here is in the Order, Harry. Horcruxes are Order business. Anything you have to discuss, you can do here. With the rest of us.

If Harry wasn't so preoccupied with everything else going on in his mind, he would have hated Charlie just then. But instead, he nodded unhappily and shrugged at Ginny, letting her know that there was really nothing he could do to beat that sort of logic.

'I have a question,' Harry said to everyone, though he was really only paying attention to McGonagall now.

'That's what you left the Hospital Wing and rushed over here for?' asked Ron.

'Is there any way,' Harry asked, ignoring Ron, 'to be able to tell if an object is a Horcrux without doing the spell that destroys it?'

McGonagall frowned. 'No,' she said, after thinking for several moments. 'Not that I am aware of. Our knowledge of Horcruxes is very limited at this point. Why do you ask?'

'Because I – when you do the spell, it removes the soul, right?' he asked. 'Voldemort's soul?' Honestly, this information was nothing he hadn't already figured out for himself. And the answers were nothing more than what Hermione could have told him, had he asked. But he needed McGonagall to say it. He needed to hear it from her.

'Yes,' said McGonagall. Everyone stared at Harry as though he was losing it.

'But what about Nagini?' he asked. 'Dumbledore told me that it would be more difficult to make a Horcrux out of a living thing, because it already had a soul. So if you were to do the spell on Nagini, would both of the souls be destroyed?'

'It is certainly a possibility,' said McGonagall. 'One that I think makes the most sense.'

'Oh,' said Harry, feeling incredibly dejected. Despite the finality of his entire situation, and despite the fact that he had never been horribly optimistic in the first place, he felt his heart plummet into his shoes. 'So … the snake would still be alive, just without a soul?'

'If you can count that as living,' Lupin said, and Harry nearly flinched.

'Harry,' said Mr Weasley. 'What's this all about?'

It was strange, Harry thought, how he'd rushed over here to discuss this with Ginny, but now that he had to say it aloud, she was the last person he wanted to tell.

'It's the Horcruxes,' he said. 'I think – I think I know what the final one is. I don't – it's not Nagini.'

'What is it?' asked Tonks.

Harry took a steadying breath, looking anywhere but at Ginny.

'It's me.'

……………………………………………………………

**Happy birthday to me.**

**Review.**


	45. Hero Complex

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**Please don't think for a second that I support the Harry-is-the-seventh-Horcrux theory. I really don't. I think a lot of the arguments for this idea make sense, but it just seems too convenient. I don't think JKR would ever make it happen in the books – not because Harry would die, but because it just seems too easy for her. I don't particularly like this idea, but realistically, I had to incorporate it. I mean, Harry would have to be an idiot not to at least consider it, and that's what I'm making him do here. So please don't assume that the rest of this story is going to play out with the plot that Harry is a Horcrux, because I'm trying my best to not go down that alley. I'm sure you readers have seen it done way too many times already. **

**Chapter Forty-Five: Hero Complex  
**……………………………………………………………

For several endless moments, Harry didn't receive any reaction. He began to question whether or not he'd even said it aloud.

And then they all started.

'That's impossible when –'

'You're out of your –'

'Harry, dear, don't –'

'Potter, you can't just –'

'– you consider the facts.'

'– bloody fucking mind!'

'– say such awful things!'

'– blurt out things without thinking.'

Harry felt anger bubbling up inside of him. Did they think he _wanted _this to be true? The way there were reacting, the things they were saying … it was almost as if they thought Harry had chosen this path for himself.

The arguments died down and suddenly all eyes were on Harry again. He could feel their stares burning into him, but what could he do? Smile and make it all better? His hands were tied. This was the first time in a while that Harry could remember feeling so absolutely hopeless about literally everything.

Never in his life had he pretended to believe that things would work out. There were very few moments that he'd actually allowed himself to have hope. But this shift in his professed destiny hit him square in the chest, and coupled with his injuries, it managed to knock the wind out of him. There really was no way out. His last fight was coming, and coming fast. He didn't get a choice in the matter. He didn't even have a fighting chance.

Still, he accepted his life.

If Tom Riddle had remained a troubled wizard, instead of turning into Lord Voldemort, Harry would still have a mum and a dad and a godfather. He would have a whole other life. In some strange, parallel universe, he believed that there was a Harry Potter living happily with all of these things, the things he lacked here in his own world.

But Tom Riddle _had _become Lord Voldemort, and Harry had ceased wondering about all the possibilities "_if_" brought him long ago, for the same reason he'd stopped spending night after night looking at the Mirror of Erised. Fantasy – a place where he was blissfully able to have everything one could ever want exactly when one wanted it – had a drugging pull, and sometimes he thought he could lose himself in it if he tried.

He was comfortable with his destiny. Really, he was. As much as one could be, at least.

Because what else was there for Harry? Nothing. Everyone else in his life had a role to play. Ron was a son, a brother, a strategist, a warrior. Hermione was a daughter, a thinker, a star student, an elf liberation activist. Ginny was a sister, a maverick, a boyhood crush if there ever was one. Mrs Weasley was a mother of seven. Mr Weasley was a provider. Tonks was an Auror, a protector. McGonagall was a professor, a headmistress, the leader of the Order.

And Harry was the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, _the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord_.

He was born to beat Voldemort. That was all there was to it. And if he didn't have that – if he didn't have the title of Boy Who Loved to put to his name – what did he have? His parents were dead. He had no siblings. He wasn't a brilliant student. He wasn't outgoing or funny or particularly interesting. He wasn't anything at all, really. He felt certain nobody would have ever noticed him at Hogwarts if it hadn't been for his scar and the fact that the _Daily Prophet _had nobody better to put on their front page.

Harry Potter was just a name. A legend. A scar.

_If_ he was wrong about this Horcrux theory, _if _he lived past all of this … _if_ the name lost its appeal and the legend stopped being passed on and the scar faded … what then?

He'd spent most of his life locked up in a cupboard under the stairs, being ignored by a family who did their best to hide the proof that they were truly related. He'd spent the last six years emerged in a world of uncertainty and danger. He knew better than to look for a way of out this war. He was a warrior. Fighting Voldemort and other Dark magic was all he really knew how to do. He could duel, but how far could that get him _after _the war?

He would have Ron and Hermione. He would have Ginny. But he couldn't make them the center of his world when he would only a part of theirs.

He was kidding himself with Ginny anyway. He couldn't love her. He'd grown up in a situation in which love didn't exist for him. He could try, but he couldn't ever succeed. He couldn't love her the way she deserved to be loved.

He didn't know why he was wasting his time thinking about this. He wasn't going to survive this war. But was that really such a bad thing? He loved the people in this room as best he could, even though it probably wasn't good enough, and he was showing that love by fighting. He was fighting – searching for Horcruxes, going through hell training and strategizing, working with the Order when he secretly thought it was pointless – _for them_. As long as _they _made it through this whole ordeal and went on to live long, happy lives, he didn't care about himself all that much.

Besides, he'd been waiting all of his life, and he thought he'd very much like to meet his mum and dad. And he'd love to see Sirius again.

How bad of a place could the other side be if people like that were there, waiting for him?

It wasn't as if he was _hoping _to die. Despite the morbid thoughts that sometimes went around and around in his mind, he would never choose death over life. But he'd given it a lot of thought recently, and he reached the conclusion that he was, quite simply, destined to fight Voldemort. And when that fight was over, even if his side won out, Harry knew that he would be dead. When your destiny was fulfilled, there was no other reason for you to stick around.

'This doesn't make any sense,' Hermione declared. 'Why would Voldemort make you a Horcrux if he planned on killing you? I mean, if he was stashing his soul, wouldn't he want to put it in something a little more … permanent? Something he knew would still be around in a year or two?'

Harry winced at her words, though they were true, and Hermione's eyes widened.

'I don't mean it like that!' she cried quickly, and maybe she really hadn't. But she was too logical for her own good, and so Harry would bet his life that she'd known exactly what she'd been saying, at least on some level. 'I'm just saying that Voldemort is trying to _kill _you. Not keep you safe, like the other Horcruxes.'

'Except,' said Harry, 'Voldemort hasn't tried to kill me since fifth year. D'you think it's because he got tired of the chase and decided to give up? Not likely.

**  
**Hermione shook her head. 'And when would he have done this?' she asked. 'Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow when you were a baby to _kill you_. He wouldn't have made you a Horcrux just incase things backfired. Voldemort wouldn't ever take precautions. He never would have considered failure a possibility for himself.'

Harry shook his head. 'I'm not saying that,' he said. 'But he possessed me back at the Department of Mysteries. The night Sirius died. Did I ever tell you that?'

Ron spoke up. 'You don't really think that while he possessed you, he –?'

'We thought the snake was a Horcrux because Voldemort could easily possess it, like he did on the night Mr Weasley was attacked. Voldemort can possess me just as easily when I'm not using Occlumency,' said Harry. 'There's a reason his Death Eaters are never allowed to hurt me … and I'm starting to think it's not just because Voldemort wants to finish me off himself.'

'This is ridiculous,' Mrs Weasley said, but her voice cracked.

'He wanted seven Horcruxes. If he'd only made six by the night he came to kill me … that means he'd been planning to make the seventh one after I'd been killed. But I didn't die. And so he had to wait until he regained his power to make the last one. He had to wait until after he came back at the end of our fourth year. And what did he have to lose by making _me _the last one? Nothing. What do I have to lose?' His eyes strayed to Ginny for the first time since he began speaking. 'Everything.'

'No,' Ginny said fiercely.

'_And either must die at the hand of the other _… we all know that I'm the only one who can beat Voldemort. But in order to do that, I need to destroy all of the Horcruxes first,' he said. 'Isn't it the perfect plan? If I'm a Horcrux, then the only way we can even prepare to fight Voldemort is if I'm destroyed first. And the only way we can beat Voldemort is if I'm the one who does it. Both contradict each other. If I don't destroy myself, but I get rid of the others and then I actually beat Voldemort … who's to say that the part of his soul in me wouldn't – I don't know – turn me into _him_?'

'That would never happen!' cried Ginny.

'Says who?'

'Says _me_.'

Mrs Weasley sighed, seemingly appalled with her daughter's attitude. 'Ginny –'

'Stay out of this, Mum,' Ginny growled, glaring at Harry, and he finally understood what Ron meant when he said Ginny could be just as intimidating as Mrs Weasley when she tried.

'Harry,' Hermione said, and whether she spoke because she had an idea or because she wanted to keep Ginny from making the situation worse, Harry wasn't sure. 'You can't possibly be so sold on this idea. You don't even know for certain. And there are so many aspects you haven't considered.'

How would she know? Why did Hermione always have to act like such a bloody know-it-all? This was more complex than she realized. Maybe Harry hadn't considered _every _possible aspect, but did that mean he was wrong? Nobody could deny that his idea made a hell of a lot of sense.

'Like what?'

'Like – maybe you're right, and you are going to have to die for this. But what if you make a Horcrux of yourself beforehand? Would you be able to come back just like Voldemort planned on doing?'

'Yeah,' said Ron lamely. 'You could do that! That would work.'

'Maybe,' said Harry, his heart pounding. 'Except if this is true, and part of Voldemort's soul is inside of me, who's to say the Horcrux wouldn't retain my soul_ and _his?'

He looked at Hermione, but she said nothing.

'C'mon,' he challenged. 'What do you say to that?' She didn't speak. 'Exactly. You and I both know that it wouldn't be worth the risk.'

'Not worth the risk!' bellowed Ron. 'Of course it would be worth the risk if it meant keeping you alive!'

'That isn't the concern here,' said Harry coldly.

'Well maybe it's _my _concern!' yelled Ron, and he looked so afraid, yet so determined.

The room fell momentarily silent.

Harry could do nothing but look at his best mate, who he'd grown up with, who he loved like a brother. He knew that when he died, it would be hell for Ron. Just the way it had been hell for him when Ron had "died". But how could Ron stand before him and act like Harry was the enemy? Wasn't Harry doing them all a favour by bringing this up and making them realize it was a possibility? That it was going to happen whether they liked it or not?

'Why is it you? Why does it _have to be _you?' Ginny demanded, as if he hadn't just verbalized most of the thoughts and explanations he had running around in his head. 'He possessed me in first year. Am I to believe that _I'm _the final Horcrux now?'

Harry hadn't considered this. 'Gin –'

She stormed over to Harry and kissed him, hard on the mouth. He knew she'd lost it then, because there was no reason at all why she could possibly think doing that in front of her entire family would be a good idea. She pulled away, and he saw something in her eyes that terrified him.

'You think I haven't considered this before? You think I haven't laid in bed and night thinking to myself, _Maybe Harry won't be able to find the last Horcrux because that little piece of soul is floating around somewhere inside his own body_? I have,' she told him. He wondered how Ginny could come up with such an idea ages ago, and yet he hadn't even considered this a possibility until just now. 'I've thought about it more than you know. I've worried myself sick over it. But would I kiss you if I thought you were somehow breathing Tom's soul into me?'

'Ginny,' Harry said pleadingly, though he wasn't sure what he was asking for.

'Just remember that I poured my heart into that diary for nearly a year. I _know _what something with a hunk of Tom Riddle in it is like.'

'It doesn't work like that,' he said.

'Then how does it work?' she demanded.

He didn't have an answer for her. But just because he didn't know enough to be able to tell her how it worked didn't mean he was wrong and she was right.

'You like it,' she said accusingly. 'You like thinking that you're a Horcrux.'

What the hell was she talking about? He'd have to be pretty messed up to feel good about this situation.

'You couldn't be more wrong,' he said.

'Am I? Or am I right on the mark?' she asked. 'You love that this is all about you! Admit it – you _love _how important this whole damn situation makes you feel! It's _only_ _you _who can defeat Voldemort. _Only_ _you_ have the power to win this war. You love the thought that you're such a big, scary wizard that Voldemort had to make you a Horcrux because it was the only way he thought he could stop you.'

'Ginny –'

'What the hell is wrong with you that you can't just have hope? You say you want to survive this but I see no proof of that! All you talk about lately is _when this is over, when you're gone_. Maybe you're ready to give up and lie down, but I'm not. And I refuse to let you do this to yourself. What about the rest of us, Harry? What about _me_?' she yelled. 'So stop feeling sorry for yourself already and quit being such a selfish little bastard.'

She turned around to leave. Harry grabbed her left hand. She slapped him across the face with her right one. He let her go, too shocked to speak, and she stormed out of the room.

He didn't know where any of that had come from. The things she'd said … it sounded like she'd been holding it in for months. She probably had. But where did she get the right to say any of that to him? Maybe he acted like a prat sometimes, but he'd never done or said anything with the intention of hurting her or making her feel bad. And anything he ever did, he did it for her. Whether it rubbed her the wrong way or not.

'Mr Weasley, Miss Granger,' said McGonagall, her voice breaking the thick silence that had settled in after Ginny left. 'Please escort Potter back to Hogwarts and see to it that he remains in his bed until someone tells him otherwise.'

He didn't need Ron and Hermione to follow him and treat him like a bloody infant. He would gladly go back to Hogwarts. It sounded a hell of a lot better than staying in the same house as Ginny.

No, he would much rather go back to his hospital bed and feel sorry for himself. Like Ginny said, he was awfully good at it.

How dare she say those things to him? She had called him selfish in the same breath as she'd asked him, _what about me_?

What _about _her?

It was only some time later – when he suddenly felt sensations of guilt and anger separate from his own – that he realized he could once again sense Ginny.

But he couldn't bring himself to care, and so he closed his mind to her and went to sleep. She'd called him a selfish bastard, and he fully intended on proving her right.

……………………………………………………………

When he awoke, Ginny was sitting beside his bed.

'What d'you want?' he grumbled.

If she realized that he was being miserable on purpose, she said nothing. A part of his was still furious with her, though in the foggy moments that followed waking from a deep sleep, he couldn't remember why.

'I don't think you're a Horcrux,' she said. 'Not because it scares me to think about it. And not because I would die if it was true. I just don't think you are.'

He sat up. He wasn't sure if he was talking to her yet.

He didn't really know how to go about this. He honestly couldn't remember a time when she'd done or said the wrong thing in an argument, but he was pretty sure that that was what had happened this time. And he was pretty sure, judging by the way she was in front of him looking embarrassed and friendly, that she knew it. Was this her way of apologizing? And if it was, should he even accept it?

He reminded himself of all the times he'd been a git and she'd forgiven him. Maybe he'd never said anything as hurtful as what she'd said to him, but then again, maybe he had. There were times that he thought he understood almost everything about Ginny. And then there were times when he had absolutely no clue what she liked and didn't like.

'Why not?' he asked.

She leaned back in her chair. 'The other night, before you got hurt … Voldemort had somehow gotten into your mind. Right?'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'So?'

'I felt it, too,' she said, and he felt a wave of guilt hit him at the thought of Ginny feeling pain because of her connection to him. 'So if you think you're the Horcrux because Voldemort can possess you, or whatever he does, you're wrong. Because he did the same thing to me that night. And Tom did it all the time when I was little. That doesn't mean _I'm _the Horcrux. Maybe – maybe he can just do that sometimes to people.'

Harry didn't even know what to think anymore. If he was honest with himself, he no longer felt as sure of everything as he had before going to sleep. He'd been so positive that he'd figured out the big secret. And now … he didn't even know.

What was worse, he didn't know if he was relieved or not.

If it turned out that he was the final Horcrux, at least he would know what the final one was. But if he wasn't, it would most likely be for the same reasons why the snake wasn't. Right? And that would put him right back at square one. This war wasn't going to last forever. Voldemort wasn't going to hold off and give Harry time to figure everything out for himself. What little time he had left was ticking away, and he could do nothing, especially not when confined to that bloody hospital bed.

He figured he could probably stand to talk to Dumbledore and see what his thoughts on the situation were. But at the same time, he could remember the anger he'd felt earlier at Dumbledore, and it worried him to think that Dumbledore's new answers would evoke that same response in Harry.

'Maybe,' Harry admitted. He didn't know if he was right, but that didn't mean he thought he was wrong. He could think of a lot of reasons why he was the Horcrux. Still, there were a lot of other possible explanations for all of his ideas.

He supposed the only way he would know for sure would be to find the snake and kill it. If Nagini really was the final Horcrux, Harry would have quite a time getting to that stupid snake.

He was in for several obstacles, but then again, wasn't his whole life just one challenge after the other? He was ready for this fight. He was going to give it everything he had.

And there were times, like right now, that he felt certain he would win. He would give Ginny and Ron and Hermione and everyone else the safe life that they all deserved. He knew that it mattered to them if he survived. And he knew that it _should _matter to himself. But looking at the big picture, Harry couldn't really be bothered with the idea of his death. He found it hard to see a problem with it, especially when his dying meant he'd be saving so many other lives in the process.

He moved over in his bed and Ginny climbed in beside him, just as she had many times before. It hurt him to think that she'd felt the same sort of pain that he had when Voldemort had found his way into Harry's mind.

It occurred to him that Voldemort probably knew about Harry and Ginny's connection now. How else would one explain trying to invade one person's mind and ending up in another's?

How many times would Ginny be hurt because of Harry? She had already felt so much pain, whether directly because of Harry's own stupid actions or because of someone else's reaction to her relationship with him. Harry said he loved her, and he did. As best as he could, at least. But how could he justify putting someone he loved through all of this? It wasn't right.

'Ginny,' he said. 'I love you.'

'I love you, too,' she said.

'I know. But … listen …' he began, and then paused. Was he really going to say this? And what would she say in response? 'This isn't going to be easy. It's just going to get harder and harder. And a lot more dangerous. Voldemort – there's no way we can hide our connection from him anymore, I don't think. So if you – if at any time you think you want to walk away … I would never hold it against you.'

He was fairly certain that she would never voluntarily leave him. But at the same time, he wondered if it was because she didn't want to, or because she felt an obligation to stay. There came a point where everyone ultimately had to put their own interests first. Where a person had to stop being a team player and make decisions based on what they wanted and needed. For some people, like Tom Riddle and Snape and the Malfoys, that time came quickly. Much quicker than it did for people like Dumbledore and McGonagall and Sirius.

When would that time come for Ginny?

She turned her head and her eyes met his. 'I hate that you just said that,' she told him. But he was too tired to fight with her, and maybe she felt the same way, because she closed her eyes and relaxed against him.

'This is suicide,' he whispered, sometime later. She said nothing, and he realized that her deep, even breathing meant that she was asleep. He eventually drifted off to sleep as well, his dreams filled with images of the dozens of ways Ginny could be tortured and killed because of him.

……………………………………………………………

**Review.**


	46. The Last Marauder

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Forty-Six: The Last Marauder  
**……………………………………………………………

Harry opened his eyes and saw Ginny watching him.

'Hi,' she said softly.

'Hi. How long was I asleep?'

'I'm not too sure,' she said. 'I woke up maybe ten minutes ago.'

Harry strained his neck to look around. 'D'you think anyone came in to check on us?'

'Probably not,' said Ginny. 'I really doubt anyone in my family would've come through here and left without waking me up and making me leave you alone.'

He rolled onto his side and looked at her. 'Well, leave it to me to pick the girl with six older brothers,' he said quite seriously.

'Pick? Oh, no. I don't think _you_ picked_ me_ at all.'

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'So what exactly _do _you think happened?' he asked. She shrugged. 'No, really. I'd love to know what's going through your mind.'

Her eyes sparkled. _Careful what you wish for_, she thought, and even the sound of her voice echoing in his mind sounded sweeter than he'd remembered it. How had he functioned properly without their connection for as long as he had?

'When I was little,' she said, 'I heard your name and your story and I decided I wanted to meet you one day.' She smiled. 'Then I was ten. I saw you at my house and I decided that I really, really fancied you.'

'Yeah?'

'Oh, yeah. I didn't know why just then, but I guess I had good instincts. Because it's six years later and I still get butterflies when you walk into the room.'

Harry wondered if she ever felt embarrassed when she said things like that. Hearing it made him feel like such a git. He wondered if Hermione ever bothered Ron with things like that, things that were nice and loving, and he wondered if Ron ever felt completely uncomfortable.

They were _blokes_, though. They weren't supposed to be mushy. Were they? He wondered if there had been situations in the past where Ginny had expected certain things from him that he hadn't delivered. There must have been millions of them. Did she care? Was she unhappy? Or did she just realize that Harry wasn't good at showing that sort of stuff?

'And when I was eleven, you saved my life, and I decided you were my hero,' she continued. 'Then I was fourteen and I decided I didn't want to be that girl who was pathetically obsessed with you. So I fed Hermione some line about being over you, and then I dated Michael for the hell of it.'

'Hermione told me that, you know,' he said. 'I'll admit that I was awfully relieved.'

She smiled. 'And I don't blame you!' she said. 'The only person worse than me was Colin.'

Harry laughed. 'So? Keep talking.'

'Right – so then I was fifteen and dating Dean. He had a few flaws, but –'

'Flaws? Can you give me a few examples?' Harry asked, enjoying this now. Dean was sort of his mate, but he was Ginny's ex-boyfriend, and that automatically pushed him into the _bastard _category in Harry's books.

'Well, for one, he wasn't you.'

'That _is_ an awfully big flaw,' he joked.

'It's bigger than you'd think,' she said honestly. 'And at first, I was able to … overlook his flaw. But then I started to notice that you had a habit of watching me in the Common Room at night.'

Harry felt himself blush.

'Oh, it's okay,' she said. 'I only noticed because I watched you in the Common Room, too.'

'So we're both pervy stalkers, then?'

'Guess so,' she laughed. 'I didn't really know what – if anything – was going to happen with you, but I knew it couldn't happen with Dean still kicking around. I decided to dump him. I decided I was going to make you want me. And then I decided that to do that, I would hang around you more, even though that also meant hanging around Ron and Hermione, and they both gave me a huge headache because of all that Lavender business.'

Harry grinned. Nobody knew the headaches his friends could cause better than he did. He was glad that rubbish was over. And even though Ron and Hermione still fought a ridiculous amount, it was different than before, and Harry liked it quite a bit better this way.

'My plan worked, and you fell absolutely head-over-heels in love with me. So you see, you didn't really have any choice. I made all the decisions. And I think we both know that once I decide on something, nothing can get me to change my mind.'

Harry rolled his eyes. A thought struck him, something humourous, and he suddenly wanted to share it with Ginny. 'Remember how Dean kept putting his hand on you and helping you through the portrait hole?'

'Bloody annoying,' Ginny said. 'I couldn't take it anymore.'

'Right,' he said. 'Well, actually … I was going out the portrait hole under my Invisibility Cloak one night while you were coming in and I accidentally brushed against you. I guess you thought it was Dean because I heard you yelling at him for it as I left, and the next day, Hermione said you two were broken up.' He smiled. '_Whoops_,' he said innocently.

'Just as well,' she said with a smile. 'I mean, we would have had to break up eventually.'

'Why?'

'I had to end up with you, didn't I?' she asked.

'Dunno,' he said thoughtfully. 'You think you did?'

'Yeah,' she said. 'I think I did.'

'You might not end up with me though,' Harry said, knowing he would get hell for saying it, but also knowing that it was time they had it out. 'I might not –'

'Harry –'

'_No_,' he said, and he sensed the light, relaxed feelings of their previous conversation change into impatience and frustration and something else, something that felt an awful lot like despair. 'I'm being realistic, Ginny. I haven't got my fingers crossed under this blanket that it's going to happen. But it might. It probably will. You denying that and refusing to even consider it won't change anything.' Then, because he was still a little mad at her, he said, 'And you getting mad and hitting me won't either.'

Ginny's eyes flew to his cheek. 'I'm sorry about that,' she said. 'Really, I am. But you – you just came in and threw so many things at me at once. And you were fighting for it so hard. I just – I don't know – I …'

'Hit me?' he supplied.

She blushed. 'I shouldn't have. And I shouldn't have said what I said, either. About you wanting all of this.'

'I don't,' he said, because he could see that there was still a little bit of doubt etched on her face. He sighed. 'I can't help it. This war is what I'm about. But Gin, you – you make me want more than this. For me. And that's huge.'

'It doesn't sound that way a lot of the time,' she said.

'What do you want me to do?' he asked. 'You _know _I'm not like that.'

'Like what?' she demanded. She shifted away from him and got out of bed. 'Hopeful? Optimistic?'

'Well … yeah,' he said, sitting up. 'I don't look at situations and think, _How can I make this better_? I think, _What are the ways that this can go even more wrong_? And maybe that's really bad, but it's kept me alive so far.'

'But –'

'I can't pretend, not even for you. _Worst case scenario _isn't hypothetical anymore. It's _this_. This is war. Full-out war. Voldemort's got Death Eaters and Dementors and Merlin-only-knows what else. This is the absolute worst case scenario. Do you get that?'

'Yes, but –'

'It doesn't seem like you do! You say you're ready and you want to fight, but then you're back here and whispering in my ear that everything's going to be fine when it won't.'

'You don't know that it won't be,' she said accusingly.

'Just like you don't know otherwise,' he countered. He sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. 'I think …'

'What do you think?' she whispered, urging him to continue.

'I think that the chances of everyone making it out of this are a lot less than you're willing to admit. And I think you realized that a long time ago.'

Ginny cleared her throat. 'Maybe,' she said slowly, 'we should stop talking about this.'

'Maybe.'

'I should go,' she said. 'We can talk later.'

She kissed Harry's cheek and left, and he knew that there would not be another discussion. He was both pleased that he'd gotten her off of his back and worried that he'd given her even more to worry about.

But she'd started it back at The Burrow, hadn't she?

……………………………………………………………

December seemed to be warmer this time around than in the past. But maybe that was just because the stone walls of Hogwarts castle had always been so cold at night, and The Burrow was always a little too warm.

Harry kicked off his blankets and got out of bed, careful not to wake Ron. He stumbled down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. And that was when he saw it.

A movement past the window. His fingers wrapped around his wand, Harry gritted his teeth and went to the door.

He stepped outside and found nothing. Nobody. No sign of anything.

But Harry knew what he'd seen. And he knew that he wasn't going to allow it to happen. Not at The Burrow. It was unacceptable.

Something small and furry brushed past his bare foot, and Harry was ready.

There was a blue-white light, and then the tiny rat was sprouting human limbs, morphing into the impossibly disheveled form of Peter Pettigrew.

'Harry Potter,' Wormtail gasped.

'What the _hell _do you think you're doing here?' he demanded. 'You have no _right _to come back here after all you done!' His hands were on Wormtail's neck, his fingers pressing and squeezing and choking, but he couldn't stop. He wouldn't.

'H-Harry – please – h-have mercy.'

'_Mercy_?' Harry spat. 'Did you have mercy when you sold out my parents? When you framed Sirius? When you sliced my arm for some blood so you could bring back Voldemort?'

'I –'

'Did you have mercy when you drew your wand and killed Cedric Diggory?' he continued, not caring that Wormtail's face was bright red now. Not caring that his nasty little fingers were clawing at Harry's, begging for air. 'That's his name, you know. The boy you killed two years ago.'

He relaxed his grip then, because he wanted to hear what Wormtail had to say for himself.

'I – yes, yes, yes, yes –' Wormtail gasped. 'I know. But please. Have Mercy. Mercy.'

'I will. I promise,' Harry said. He saw Wormtail relax, and he felt a new sense of loathing course through him. 'I'll make this quick. Like you did with Cedric.'

Wormtail's eyes widened again. 'Please – no! I made a – a mistake –'

'A _mistake_?' repeated Harry. 'That's all it was to you?'

'I've made many mistakes – so many mistakes, Harry,' Wormtail wheezed. 'Your p-parents … I did a terrible thing.'

'You think?'

'James was the b-best friend I ever had, Harry. So – so understand and – and forgiving. Your father, he would have spared me. He w-would have forgiven me. Shown me m-mercy!'

Harry nearly screamed. Wormtail didn't get to talk about James or Sirius or anyone else.

He pushed Wormtail harder against the side of the house. His wand was at Wormtail's neck now, and it felt good there. This should have happened ages ago. Why hadn't it? Why hadn't Harry made it his top priority to find Wormtail? Who cared about bloody _Horcruxes_ when Wormtail was still alive and doing so much damage?

'Then I guess I'm not as much like my dad as everyone says.'

'N-no, Harry, you don't want to do this.'

'_Don't tell me what I don't want to do_!' he yelled, and he was positive at least one of the Weasleys would hear him and come to investigate, but he couldn't even begin to care.

Wormtail had sold out his parents. It was his fault Sirius had spent over a decade in Azkaban for something he'd never done. Something he would've never even _thought _of doing.

He deserved to be punished. To suffer. He shouldn't get to take the coward's way out this time.

He could turn Wormtail over to the Ministry. But there were probably a ton of wizards on the inside who were working for Voldemort. And the Dementors were no longer under the Ministry's control. No matter who Harry handed him over to, Wormtail would be free within days.

'F-forgive me,' Wormtail pleaded, but there was no forgiving left in Harry for this poor excuse of a wizard. Wormtail deserved nothing. Harry owed him nothing. He wasn't one of his dad's best friends. He wasn't a true Marauder. He was worthless and despicable and a murderer. 'I can h-help you. I can tell you all about wh-what the Dark Lord is planning. I can –'

He couldn't listen anymore. His head hurt and his blood was boiling and Wormtail needed to _shut up_. Harry couldn't stand to hear one more word. The pressure was building and building and building, down his arm and into his itching fingertips. His wand was still there, digging right into Wormtail's throat. He felt it again, that same urge he'd felt when he'd had Draco in this position, and he could do nothing to stop himself.

'_Avada Kedavra_.'

It was so green, so _blinding_, that Harry was certain someone would wake up. He could feel the panic rising, the need to hide what he'd done. He wouldn't be able to stand it if Mr Weasley came out to see what the commotion was and saw Harry now.

But at the same time, his heart was pounding. His mind was racing. There was a feeling like nothing else coursing through his veins. It felt good. Too good to ignore. The shame was there, but it wasn't registering the way it should have. The way it probably would have before.

He backed away and went to the only person he could trust now.

……………………………………………………………

Remus awoke to someone calling his name.

_Harry _registered in his mind, but Remus could not come up with a logical reason for why Harry would be at Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night.

'Professor Lupin!' he heard Harry call.

Unless there was trouble at The Burrow, and Harry had escaped to Headquarters for help. But that wasn't right. If something was really happening at The Burrow, Harry wouldn't run and abandon the Weasleys. He would stay and fight. He would get himself killed.

'Professor!'

He pulled himself out of bed and ran to the doorway.

'In here!'

Harry appeared, panting and barefoot, clutching his wand. Remus feared the worst. Molly was dead. Or Arthur. Ginny?

'What is it?' he asked.

'I – I need your help,' Harry said. 'I need you to come to The Burrow with me right now. But we can't wake the Weasleys.'

'Okay,' said Remus. 'Just let me change into –'

'There's no time,' insisted Harry. 'Please?'

Something wasn't right here. Harry wasn't right. He was up to something. Or this wasn't really Harry. But could Harry be Polyjuiced? For someone who lived such a dangerous life, it was rarely Harry stuck in precarious situations lately. When would the Death Eaters have gotten the opportunity?

'Wormtail came to The Burrow,' Harry said, dropping his eyes to the floor. 'And I – I just need your help with something.'

'Peter?' Remus asked. 'You left him alone? Who's watching him? Ron?'

'Nobody's watching him,' said Harry.

Remus felt something inside of him shift. Peter couldn't get away. Not again. Not after everything he'd done to the Marauders.

Sirius and James had been the best friends anyone could ever ask for. And Peter had ruined both of their lives. He'd betrayed them all. Remus wouldn't let him slide out of his grasp one more time.

'What!' he cried. 'We have to go!' He ran back into his room and grabbed his wand. 'What were you thinking? He's going to –'

'He's not going to do anything,' Harry said stiffly.

'Not if we act quickly!' he said, rushing past Harry and toward the staircase.

'_Remus_,' said Harry, and suddenly something was different.

Remus stopped moving, his legs nearly buckling under the weight of the truth.

He understood that when he turned around again, he wouldn't see his best friend's son, the one who laughed and played Quidditch and carried himself just as James once had. He would see someone he didn't recognize, someone capable of awful things. And surely this was not the same child he'd held in his hands hours after his birth. This was not the boy he'd promised Lily and James he'd look after if anything was to happen to them. The one who always listened with wide eyes as Remus spoke of his parents.

'I don't – I don't know what to do with … him.'

Remus swallowed. And they returned to The Burrow in silence.

'Where is he?' Remus asked when they were finally standing in Molly's kitchen.

'Outside that door and to your left,' Harry answered.

'Go up to bed,' he said. 'I'll take care of things.'

Harry nodded. 'Thank you.'

Remus went outside and stood before Peter, almost expecting him to spring to life and make a run for it. He'd waited so long to have Peter in this position. He'd dreamt of it for years. But it didn't feel nearly as good as he'd expected. And he knew that Sirius and James were not together somewhere slapping high fives.

And with that thought, the last Marauder picked up his wand and pointed it at the remains of a wizard he'd once called a friend.

He shivered. This really was the coldest winter he could remember.

……………………………………………………………

**Review.**


	47. The Letter

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**For Katherine. 02.01.06 – we miss you like it was yesterday.**

**Chapter Forty-Seven: The Letter  
**……………………………………………………………

Ginny awoke exactly eight hours after she'd gone to bed, feeling refreshed but unsettled. She couldn't remember having any nightmares, but she frowned just the same, knowing that she'd had a dream about Harry and that it hadn't been good. She couldn't remember any of the details … but something wasn't right. And why did she get the awful feeling that something bad had happened here last night?

She wanted to ask Hermione if she felt something too, but judging by the sound of water running through the pipes overhead, Hermione was currently in the shower.

Shaking off all negative feelings, she dressed and went downstairs. The Burrow was decorated for the Christmas season, and nothing put Ginny in a better mood than seeing the mistletoe hanging in the kitchen doorway. She'd have to remember to get Harry under there later.

'Good morning,' she said brightly, coming into the kitchen.

'Someone's in a good mood,' Mr Weasley remarked, not looking up from his copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

'Yeah,' said George. 'Since when are _you _a morning person?'

'Leave her alone, boys,' lectured Mrs Weasley. 'I think it's lovely. Good morning, dear.'

'So tell us, Gin. What did you do last night that's put you in such high spirits?' Fred asked, raising his eyebrows in a rather suggestive manner.

'Does it have anything to do with why Harry's so bloody tired this morning?' asked George.

Ginny felt her cheeks heat at the look her mum shot her.

'Only joking, of course,' George continued. 'Don't worry, Mum. Why, I bet Harry and Ginny – '

'Mum!' Ginny whined. Why did her brothers always have to pick on her and Harry?

'Leave your sister alone,' Mrs Weasley said automatically, and Ginny thought it was somewhat sad that telling the boys to leave her alone was just a reflex by now.

'Don't you have anything to say about this?' Ginny asked Ron.

'And what would you like me to say?' Ron said, his mouth full.

'Yeah,' said Fred. 'I bet his girlfriend would rather read a book than shag him, anyway.'

Mr Weasley let out a snort from behind his paper.

Ron's ears turned red and he slammed his fork down onto the table.

'All right, all right,' said Mrs Weasley, looking at her husband disapprovingly. 'This is certainly not talk for the breakfast table. Honestly, I don't know where you boys learned this. I swear that I tried to teach you lot manners. Goodness only knows where they've gone …' She sighed. 'You boys can clear the table when everyone's finished.'

'We've got to get to the shop!' said George.

'You should have thought of that before you starting giving your sister a hard time for nothing.'

'My arse,' Fred grumbled.

'What was that?' Mrs Weasley demanded.

'Nothing,' he said quickly, and then dropped his eyes to his plate.

'Good morning,' Hermione said cheerfully, entering the kitchen and kissing Ron's cheek, earning a snigger from Fred.

'What's with you birds this morning?' George mumbled. 'Did some sort of Cheering Charm get shot around your room during the night, Gin?'

Ginny rolled her eyes and dove into her breakfast. She really was starving. And if Harry didn't come down soon, she was going to eat his food too. Speaking of Harry – where was he? She glanced at the clock and frowned. 'Harry's really not up yet?' she wondered aloud.

'That git?' said Ron. 'Bloody miserable this morning. Nearly bit my head off because I asked him if he was coming down to breakfast or not.'

Ginny frowned. That really wasn't like Harry. He was hardly a morning person, and he often snapped at Ron, but something about what her brother said sounded off. Perhaps Harry wasn't feeling well?

'I passed him on my way down. He was headed for the shower and he looked … a little worse for wear.'

Everyone, even Mr Weasley, glanced in Ginny's direction this time.

Ginny rolled her eyes and stood. 'Filthy perverts,' she muttered. 'I'm going to go check on him. And I'm leaving my plate here especially for you, George.'

'Lovely,' George grumbled as she left the room.

When she made it up to Ron's bedroom, she found Harry's bed empty. She knew that he was still in the shower, but she really wanted to talk with him. Something about this entire day wasn't right. And surely he could sense it too. What else could explain his absence at breakfast and shortness with Ron? His wall was up, and even after several polite but insistent attempts to have him lower it, it remained intact.

She sat on his bed for a long time. Longer than it should have taken Harry to shower. She wished she knew how to Apparate. She'd just pop herself down there and bust in on him. She smiled at the thought and stored that idea away for a day that she was able to do just that.

'It's about time, Potter,' she said when he finally entered his room. 'I've been waiting for you.'

'Oh,' was all he said.

_Okay_, she thought. _Maybe a different approach will work better_. 'You didn't come down to breakfast.'

'Nope,' he said. He closed the door and lost the towel he'd tied around his waist. She averted her eyes as he dressed, even though she didn't really have to, because it felt more like looking at a stranger than her Harry just then.

'Is everything all right?' she asked.

'Yeah.'

'Are you sick?'

'No.'

'Are you capable of saying more than one word at a time?' she said, raising her voice in frustration.

He looked up at her and shrugged.

'Dunno.'

She didn't smile, but judging by his reaction, she didn't think he'd really expected her to.

'You're being a real arse right now,' she said. 'For no bloody reason.'

'Sorry,' he said, but his voice went up slightly at the end, as if it was more of a question than an apology.

'What's going on with you?'

'Nothing,' he said. She was about to absolutely lose it on him when he decided it was in his best interests to say more. 'Bad sleep. Missed you last night.'

'Yeah?' she said, and she hated the smile that crept onto her face.

'It's very cold without such a hot body wrapped around me.'

'Well.'

He looked sideways at her. 'What's with all the one-word answers?' he teased, and there was a smile on his face for the first time all morning.

'Dunno,' she said, smirking at him.

'You're being a real arse right now,' he said in a high-pitched voice that she assumed was supposed to be her own.

'Maybe you should come over here and discipline me.'

'You'd like it too much.'

She smiled innocently. He sat down on the bed beside her and kissed her. It started off soft and slow, but quickly turned into something more. When Harry's hand made contact with the flesh of her stomach, it burned. She gasped against his mouth and he clearly misunderstood what it meant. He dragged his lips to her neck and moved his hands higher.

'Stop,' she said. He didn't. 'Harry, stop.' Her skin felt like it was on fire. She tried to move away from him, but there was nowhere to go. What the hell was he doing? '_Stop_!'

Something finally seemed to click in Harry's head. That, combined with Ginny kneeing him in the stomach, got him to roll off of her.

'What the _hell _was that?' she cried, jumping off the bed and glaring down at him.

'Ginny,' he gasped, his hands over his face. 'Wow. _Wow_. I'm sorry. I don't – I don't know –'

Her skin throbbed. She lifted up her shirt and gasped at the sight of her red, raw flesh. 'What …' she said. 'What did you do?'

'I'm sorry,' he repeated.

'Harry – look at me.'

Harry looked at her and cursed. 'Did I do that?' he asked guiltily, moving toward her. She felt her heart beat faster in fear. Could he really do something like this without realizing? Or – or what he known all along?

She immediately hated herself for even _thinking _that. Of course he hadn't known. Why would he intentionally do something like that?

He reached out to touch her skin, and she took a fearful step back. What if it hurt again? His face fell. 'I had no idea I was doing it,' he said firmly, his eyes big and worried. 'I – I know I was short with you before … but you _do _know that I wouldn't …?'

'Of course you wouldn't,' she said. She wondered if her voice sounded sincere enough. Did he believe her? Did she believe herself?

'I can heal it for you,' he offered. Truthfully, she wasn't sure if she wanted to feel his hands on her right then. She didn't want to leave for fear of upsetting him, but she thought she was going to be sick if she stayed there any longer. The room felt like it was spinning.

'I –' she choked out, and then shook her head. 'Maybe we should go to McGonagall.'

'Why?' asked Harry. 'I can do it. It's just a small healing spell.'

'Don't you want to know what caused it?'

'You think McGonagall will know?' he questioned. 'If _I _can't figure out how to control it, how is she supposed to be able to?'

'I don't know,' said Ginny. 'But …you _hurt _me. Doesn't that … concern you? Even a little bit?'

'I said I was sorry,' he whispered.

'I know that you are,' she insisted. 'But …'

(_But you didn't stop_.)

'I would feel better if we went to McGonagall. Or even Lupin. Just someone who knows what they're doing.'

Harry appeared to be waging a war inside himself, between his guilt for hurting her and his anger that she didn't seem horribly forgiving even though he'd apologized and apologized. 'Fine,' he said, his guilt winning over.

……………………………………………………………

'And where do you two think you're going?' demanded Mrs Weasley.

Harry and Ginny stopped dead in front of the fireplace. 'We're just going to Headquarters for a bit,' said Ginny.

'We need to ask Remus something,' added Harry.

'He's coming over later,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Surely it can wait.'

'_Mum_,' said Ginny. 'We're perfectly capable of Flooing to Headquarters. What could happen?'

Mrs Weasley looked as though she could name a hundred different things. 'I don't think this is up for debate, young lady.'

'Relax, Mum,' said Charlie, coming up behind her. Harry bit his lip. There really was something about Charlie that he didn't particularly like. Perhaps it was Charlie's blatant dislike for Harry and Ginny's relationship. 'I'll take them.'

Mrs Weasley turned to regard Charlie. 'Well,' she said. 'I suppose it would be all right if you went with them …'

'What!' said Ginny.

Harry didn't know what to say. If Charlie came with them, he'd obviously expect a full explanation for why they had to go see Remus in the first place. And telling him that Harry had hurt Ginny would _not _be smart if Harry wanted to live past Christmas.

'Really,' said Harry, 'we'll only be a few minutes … it's no big deal.'

'Then it's no big deal if I come,' Charlie challenged.

Harry shrugged in defeat. 'No,' he said. 'I guess it's not.'

Ginny shot him a look, but what could he do?

They went to Headquarters with Harry holding his breath, hoping for a way to distract Charlie so he and Ginny could talk to Remus in private.

Remus was the first to look up. His eyes met Harry's, and Harry could feel that there was something different between them now. 'Harry,' he said. Whatever he intended on saying next was lost when he spotted Ginny behind him. 'Ginny, hello. And Charlie. What brings you all here?'

A tall woman with lime green hair turned away from her conversation with Tonks. 'Charlie?' she said. Her accent was thick, and Harry thought he recognized it from somewhere.

'Cassi?' said Charlie. Harry remembered her now – she was part of the Order in Romania. 'What're you doing here?'

'I 'ave come to viseet Tonks,' Cassi explained. 'We 'ave many theengs to discuss.' She smiled and changed her hair to dark purple. 'Zis is better, no?'

Charlie grinned in a way Harry had never seen before. Ginny caught his eye and raised an eyebrow. Harry merely shrugged and looked back at Cassi – just the distraction he'd been looking for.

'And you 'ave brought 'Arry!'

Before he could brace himself, Cassi had flung herself past Charlie and over to him. She kissed both of his cheeks (though her lips landed dangerously close to his own both times) and when she pulled away from him, he saw that both Weasleys were glaring in their direction.

'And you,' Cassi said, ignoring the look on Ginny's face. 'You must be Geenevra!'

Ginny looked somewhat taken aback at the use of her full name. 'Er – yeah, that's me. And … who are you?'

'Cassibellaunus Predoviciu,' she said.

'That's quite a mouthful,' said Ginny, folding her arms across herself.

'Call me Cassi.'

'And call me Ginny.'

'Charlie 'as told me so much about you, _Geeny_,' Cassi said.

And Ginny, to her credit, nodded politely. 'How lovely.'

Cassi turned back to Charlie. Harry, sensing the moment was upon him, looked at Remus. 'Can Ginny and I talk to you?' he said. 'In private?'

Remus nodded and the three made their way out of the kitchen.

'I'll come too,' said Charlie.

'Why don't you stay here with Cassibacknuts?' Ginny said sweetly.

'You had better be nice to her,' Charlie said sternly, lowering his voice to keep Cassi from hearing.

'And you had better keep her off my boyfriend,' she countered.

'Why? Trust issues?' asked Charlie. He glanced at Harry, who glared at him.

_He's lucky he's a Weasley_, Harry thought. _If he wasn't, I would punch his bloody face in_.

Ginny rolled her eyes and followed Remus into the other room. Harry locked his gaze onto Charlie's, and there was an understanding between them that Charlie was going to do his best to keep Harry away from his sister, and Harry was going to seriously harm Charlie if he so much as tried.

'So,' Remus said when they were alone. 'What can I help you two with?'

'There's … we have a slight problem,' said Ginny. 'We were hoping you could solve it for us.' She looked at Harry.

'We were, you know … kissing earlier,' he said. 'And my hands burned her skin.'

Remus raised his eyebrows. 'Burned her skin?' He looked at Ginny. 'Can you show me?'

Ginny blushed and lifted up her shirt. Harry nearly winced at the sight. The normally smooth flesh of her stomach was nearly raw.

'Could you heal it?' she asked. 'Harry said he could but – I just wanted to show you first.'

Harry really doubted that was why she wouldn't let him heal it. He suspected the real reason was that she didn't want him touching her again. But it hadn't been his fault! He would never – _could never _– hurt Ginny. Not intentionally, anyway. He'd probably indirectly hurt her a million times. But even _that _killed him inside.

'Sure,' Remus said. He pulled out his wand and muttered the spell. Ginny rubbed her stomach and smiled.

'Thanks. We, er, don't know how it happened,' she said. 'I mean, Harry obviously wasn't _trying _to do it …'

'Of course not,' said Remus. He looked at Harry. 'Any ideas?'

'If I knew,' he said, 'we wouldn't be here.'

'Well,' said Remus. 'I'm certainly not an expert when it comes to Wandless Magic. But I'd guess that you've – understandably – had a lot on your mind this morning and all that extra emotional energy released itself in, er, negative ways.'

Harry nodded. Ginny gave him a strange look.

'And just what have you got on your mind this morning?'

Harry ignored her. 'Thanks for your help. We'd better get back to The Burrow before Mrs Weasley comes over here to make sure we haven't died,' he said simply – quickly – before Remus had another chance to bring up the previous night.

'Right,' said Remus. His eyes showed that he disapproved of not telling Ginny the truth, but he also seemed to know that it wasn't his decision to make. 'I'll see you both later tonight then.'

'Harry,' Ginny said. 'I asked you a question.'

'What?' he asked. He should have known by now that playing stupid never worked with her.

'What did you have on your mind this morning?'

'Nothing important,' he said, making his way over to the fireplace. Charlie was wrapped up in conversation with Cassi and didn't seem to realize that anyone else was even in the room.

'Well, it was important enough to _burn _me.'

Harry sighed. 'That wasn't my fault,' he said. Even though it probably was.

'I know,' she said.

'_Do _you?'

'Of course,' she said. 'But I can tell you're keeping something from me. And … I deserve to know what the hell is going on.'

'There are some things,' he said, 'that I just can't tell you about. That I just won't tell you about.'

He went back to The Burrow then, knowing that she would continue to bother him, but also knowing that his resolve would not crumble like it usually did.

If he could help it, he would never tell her. Ginny didn't need to know. Nobody outside of himself and Remus needed to know. He and Ginny had already been through a trying couple months, and he suspected that her finding out what he'd done would have detrimental consequences to their relationship.

It wasn't that he was ashamed. Because he wasn't. He'd had reasons – valid reasons – for doing what he'd done. But he knew that nobody else would understand. He'd done the right thing. And he really didn't feel like putting up with anyone who was willing to say otherwise.

He'd sat up most of the night thinking about what had happened, and he knew that he didn't regret it. He couldn't. Wormtail had sold out his parents. He was the one who had tipped off Voldemort. If he hadn't done it –

Everything would be different.

Literally _everything_.

Harry would have parents. He wouldn't have grown up with nothing but a few pathetic pictures to reference every time he forgot the exact shade of his mum's hair or his dad's eyes.

And Sirius would still be alive. His parents would have their best friend. Harry would have a godfather, someone to go to when he needed advice about girls or pranks.

Would Sirius have had a son of his own? Or Remus? Would there have been a whole other generation of Marauders to cause trouble at Hogwarts? Had that been the plan – before everything had gone to pieces around them?

Wormtail was the reason Harry had spent ten years of his life locked up in a cupboard under his aunt's stairs. He was the reason Harry would never meet his parents. He was the reason Harry would never get to celebrate a successful prank with another of the Marauders' sons.

If Peter Pettigrew hadn't done what he'd done …

Harry couldn't even think about it anymore.

The fact that Wormtail had been walking around – _breathing_ – as if nothing had ever happened … it was something that had been eating away at him since third year.

If he hadn't stopped Sirius from killing Pettigrew when he'd wanted to … If he hadn't given him the chance to escape … If he hadn't been such a fucking _idiot _… Wormtail would have been taken care of a long time ago.

Sirius could have died knowing that he'd avenged his best friends.

Instead, Harry avenged Sirius. And his parents. And Remus. And even himself.

He could never feel sorry for what he'd done because, to him, Wormtail had been living the last sixteen years on borrowed time anyway.

……………………………………………………………

A week later, Ginny was drifting off to sleep when she heard it. _Tap_. _Tap_.

Hermione was the first to realize what it was. 'Oh,' she said. 'There's an owl at the window.'

'Let it in,' said Ginny. She didn't recognize it, and so she assumed it wasn't for her. Perhaps it was for one of her brothers, but nobody had answered at their windows.

But when the window opened, it flew straight past Hermione and went to her.

'This letter for me?' she asked the owl, who hooted in response.

'Whose owl is that?' inquired Hermione.

'Dunno,' Ginny said. She untied the piece of parchment from the bird's leg. She patted its head and it bit her fingers. 'Ouch. Unfriendly little bugger, aren't you?' The owl hooted disagreeably and flew off. 'Wait! Don't you need my reply?' But the owl was gone.

Ginny rolled her eyes and unrolled the parchment.

_The Quidditch stands_.

_Noon tomorrow_.

Ginny recognized the scrawl. It was the same handwriting that she'd found on her graded Potions essays from first to fourth year.

'Who's it from?' asked Hermione.

'Um – Luna,' she said quickly.

'No wonder the bird was so spotty. Look at its owner.'

Ginny smiled faintly, the parchment feeling thick between her fingers.

'So what does she have to say?'

'Not a lot,' said Ginny. 'Just that she's doing well and that she misses us. She hopes to see us soon.'

'I doubt she'll be seeing us anytime soon,' said Hermione. 'Is she expecting a reply?'

'Er, no,' said Ginny. 'She's just replying to a letter I sent her.' She faked a yawn. 'Right. Well. I'm off to bed. Close that window, would you? Goodnight.'

……………………………………………………………

'Can I go to Hogwarts?' Ginny asked her mum the next morning.

Mrs Weasley blinked. 'Why do you need to go there?'

'Harry's there,' she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

'_And_?'

'I'd like to see him.'

'See him when he gets home, then,' she said.

She sighed. That wasn't going to work. 'Okay. That's not the real reason why I want to go.'

'Then what _is_?'

'Well … I want to borrow some books … you know … since I technically should be in school right now. Just because Hogwarts is closed doesn't mean I should let my brain rot, does it?'

Mrs Weasley smiled at her. 'You must really need to see Harry if you're willing to make up a lie like that,' she said.

Ginny blushed. 'I'll be very quick. I promise.'

'All right. Go if you must. But try to be home in time for lunch.'

Her heart started beating faster in her chest. 'Really? I can go? And I don't need to bring Charlie or anything silly like that?'

'Is there a reason why you should?'

She shook her head. 'Of course not. I'll be with Harry and McGonagall. It doesn't get safer than that, you know.'

She left then, knowing that she wouldn't be able to go through with this if she looked at her poor mum a second longer.

She shivered as she walked through Hogwarts. It was hard to remember a time that students and laughter filled these corridors. It seemed like it had been abandoned for years. But she could close her eyes and remember shuffling past these exact portraits on her way to her next class. She could recall running through here, trying to get to the Common Room before curfew was over. And the way her heart used to jump into her throat every time she and Harry roamed the castle in search of a deserted classroom.

Her footsteps echoed and she knew better than to worry that someone would catch her. This wasn't the same as sneaking down to the kitchens after hours with Harry. The only two people in the building were both too busy to notice her.

She passed by the Great Hall and could hear them practicing. She wanted to poke her head in, but knew better. If she didn't want to get caught, she couldn't give herself an opportunity to be caught.

Was she really going through with this?

It was awfully cold outside, but the fact that she was breathing in _fresh air_ was sweet enough to make her forget all about the way her teeth chattered. She caught sight of Hagrid's Hut and wondered if he was still occupying it. She'd been to Hogwarts a handful of times since the end of term, but she hadn't seen him once. Harry said he used to have tea with Hagrid when he came to train, but he hadn't mentioned anything in some time.

The pitch seemed bigger than she could remember it. She looked up at the rings, but it was hard to remember a time that she'd been up there on her broom. Had it really only been seven months since Gryffindor had won the Cup? Since Harry had kissed her in front of all those people?

She sat in the stands, just as she had for her first four years at Hogwarts, only this time she was not waiting for a glimpse of Harry on his broom. She kept her wand clenched in her hand and tried to shake off the feeling that she had walked directly into a trap.

'You're late.'

She didn't know where the voice came from, but she was pleased that she hadn't jumped at the sound of it. She didn't need him knowing how nervous she was.

'Sod off. I'm right on time,' she said.

She heard him sigh. 'Don't just sit there like a bumbling idiot. Get under here before someone spots you.'

Ginny finally caught sight of him, underneath the stands. She scrambled to her feet and joined him.

'All right. Why'd you call me here?'

'I have a proposition for you,' he said.

'I don't care,' she said, determined to take control of this meeting. 'Do you have any idea what Harry would do if he found out I was talking to you?'

'Believe me, Weasley. You care about what I have to say.'

Did she? Or were Death Eaters going to jump out at any minute and nab her?

She couldn't decide if she trusted him or not. Why should she?

But then again, what he'd done for her in the past hadn't gotten himself any further ahead in this stupid war. She had no reason not to at least hear him out.

'I'm listening,' she said.

She took a deep breath and tried not to let him see how nervous and vulnerable she was. If there was one thing she knew for certain about Severus Snape, it was that he did not miss an opportunity to make a Gryffindor squirm under pressure.

_There are some things that I just can't tell you about_ _either_, _Harry_.

She glanced back at the castle. She wished she hadn't come. But if whatever Snape proposed would help Harry … she was obligated to at least explore this possibility.

……………………………………………………………

**Review.**


	48. Led Astray

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**I realize that this chapter will seem super rushed, and that's because it was. Between my exams and the fact that I'm going through a period where I really don't want to write anything in the Just Going With It universe at the moment, it was hard to write _even this much_. (If I get a review from anyone saying something along the lines of "lyke omgz, pleeease dnt quit dis storyyyy!" I promise I'll scream.)**

**Chapter Forty-Eight: Led Astray  
**……………………………………………………………

'I don't know if …'

There were so many ways for Ginny to end that sentence.

_If I can trust you_.

_If I should do what you're asking_.

_If this is worth it_.

_If there's even a way out of this now_.

_If I'll be able to live with myself if I turn and walk away_.

She sighed. She had to do this. For Harry.

'What if you're wrong about this? I mean, Harry seems to think that _he's_ the Horcrux,' she said. She knew she'd make a mistake the second after those words left her mouth. Did she forget who she was talking to? Snape would probably eat that up.

But he didn't seem fazed in the slightest.

'Yes, well,' said Snape. 'Leave it to Potter to make absolutely _everything _about him.'

Ginny bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't think she could stand hearing all the negative and cutting things Snape had to say about Harry, but she knew better than to attempt to set Snape straight.

But at the same time, her heart was jumping. Did Snape know something she didn't? Something Harry didn't?

'What do you mean?' she asked, and it was impossible to sound nonchalant. 'Harry's not a Horcrux?'

Snape scoffed. 'No,' he said. 'Harry Potter couldn't _handle _being a Horcrux.'

But the truth was that Harry could handle a lot more than anyone – probably even she – gave him credit for.

Ginny bit her lip in indecision. 'I don't know about this …'

'I have neither the time nor patience for your games.'

'But do you really think it's the snake?' she asked, ignoring him. 'Why should I believe you? Why – how can I be sure that I'm not walking into a trap if I go with you?'

'You _will _be walking into a trap,' he said, sounding frustrated. 'Do you listen to anything?'

'Why would you try to help us?' she asked. 'Why would you just call a meeting with me and offer up a Horcrux? Without even wanting anything in return?'

'I was merely passing along information and making an offer that I feel would put the both of us a little further ahead in this situation.'

'Why are you trying to help Harry?'

Why wouldn't he answer any of her questions with actual_ answers_?

'I am _not _trying to help Potter,' said Snape. 'Just because I do not root for Harry Potter to win doesn't mean I root for him to lose.'

Ginny frowned. 'You can't do that, though. You have to pick a side.'

'Clearly,' he said, 'it would appear that I do not.'

'This is war,' she told him. 'There has to be a winner and a loser. And you have to pick a side and stick to it, no matter what the outcome. You can't just float around in the middle like some sort of –'

Snape narrowed his eyes at her, the way he had in so many Potions classes, and she could do nothing but fall silent and blink stupidly.

'How many Horcruxes are left?' he asked.

Ginny shook her head. She'd been, admittedly, pretty stupid so far. But this was one piece of information she knew she couldn't divulge, no matter what the circumstance.

'You aren't telling me everything, so I'm going to give you the same treatment,' she said.

His eyes bore into hers, dark and cold, and it was only after he'd broken the contact and smirked that she realized he'd probably been reading her mind since the minute she'd met up with him.

'I'm going to need an answer,' he announced.

She gulped and closed her eyes. 'If I say yes,' she said slowly, 'what's going to happen?'

'I've already explained it.'

'Well, _explain it again_.'

There was silence for a long time. Ginny wondered if he was even still there, but she didn't want to open her eyes. This was the only way she knew how to prevent him from snooping around in her mind and getting even more top-secret information from her.

'If you agree to come with me,' Snape began, and she realized, though not for the first time, that the sound of his voice made her skin crawl. 'I'll send a letter to Potter telling him to come to Hogsmeade if he ever wants to see his girlfriend again. He'll spot the chance for heroics and come running. I can ensure that Nagini will be there, and all Potter has to do is recognize the opportunity.'

'And why do this?' questioned Ginny. 'What are you getting out of it?'

'My loyalties, as of late, have been … questioned,' Snape said with great distaste. 'If I can make it look as though I've taken it upon myself to deliver both you _and _Potter to the Dark Lord, I should be able to eliminate any … doubts, at least for the time being.'

It sounded reasonable. But Ginny was so far out of her element right now that almost anything sounded reasonable. She was considering his proposal. She was literally moments away from agreeing.

Was she out of her mind?

What if Snape was lying? What if he and the other Death Eaters had concocted this plan and she was falling for it as expected? What if the plan included having Snape save her back at the Manor, just so down the road they could ensure another encounter?

She put her wall down. If she could just reach Harry and tell him all of this, he could talk her out of it. He'd never let her do this.

But he was busy training, and so he didn't put his wall down and he didn't talk her out of it, and it resulted in Ginny opening her eyes and agreeing.

……………………………………………………………

Harry didn't recognize the owl, but he recognized the handwriting. He didn't understand what this was about. Was it some sort of stupid joke? A stupid attempt to lure Harry away from everyone else so Voldemort could face him one-on-one? He could have screamed. Maybe he did. McGonagall came over, but his fingers had curled and the letter was crushed in his fist.

He threw his wall down, but Ginny didn't respond. Bugger. She'd been trying to reach him earlier and he'd been too distracted with everything to answer her. What if she'd been trying to get through to him and tell him that she was in trouble? What if she wasn't answering now because she was knocked out or Stunned or _dead_?

McGonagall said nothing more and merely followed him. He led her to The Burrow. Because all of those awful things could have been happening, but there were also other solutions. Ginny could have been sleeping. Or simply angry with him for not answering her earlier.

If he had learned one thing from all these training sessions and battles and Order missions, it was that he couldn't dive into situations head first. It was hard to believe, even for himself, but Harry Potter was actually starting to get a (tiny) grip on his emotions.

'Where's Ginny?' he asked Mrs Weasley the second he saw her. He'd thought he was calm, but his voice shook and every muscle in his body felt tense. His hair was standing on end. Why wasn't Ginny in the kitchen? Was it merely that she was upstairs? Or was she in serious danger and Harry was being a fucking useless prick?

Mrs Weasley's head shot up too quickly. This wasn't good.

'She's at Hogwarts,' she said. 'She's with you.' It sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

'She's not with me,' Harry said. Fuck, this was _so _not good. 'She was never at Hogwarts.'

'She has to be there,' Mrs Weasley insisted. Didn't she see that Harry wasn't kidding? That fighting Harry on this wasn't doing anything but wasting precious minutes? 'I watched her Floo there. She said she was going to see you.'

'Miss Weasley did not come to Hogwarts,' McGonagall said. 'We were –'

'What's going on?' asked Ron. He and Hermione came into the kitchen.

'Ginny's gone,' Harry said.

'_What_?' they said at the same time.

Ron pried the note from Harry's hand and cursed as his eyes flew over the words and he took in their meaning. 'Hogsmeade?'

'This is Snape's handwriting,' noted Hermione. She put her hand over her mouth. 'Oh …'

'What?' demanded Harry.

'Last night … she got a letter from someone,' said Hermione. 'She told me it was from Luna … but she didn't let me read it and she was acting strange and went to bed immediately after …'

Hermione Disapparated. Before Harry could even connect the dots on where she'd gone, she returned with a letter of her own.

'Here it is. _The Quidditch stands_._ Noon tomorrow_,' she read.

'Why the hell is Ginny getting letters from Snape?' Harry yelled, as if the others had the answers. 'And why is she going to Hogwarts to meet him?'

'I will gather the Order together,' McGonagall volunteered.

'There's no time,' Harry said. McGonagall turned to him, ready to argue or lecture him or do a million other things, none of which were going to help Ginny. He shook his head. 'Go! Hurry!'

McGonagall left. Mrs Weasley was running into the other room, calling for Charlie.

'Harry,' said Ron. 'Can you get her?'

'If we go now,' Harry said, misunderstanding.

'No,' said Hermione. 'With your mind – can you lower your wall and get to her?'

Harry was taken aback. 'How do you know about –?'

But the answer was quite clear. Ginny had told them, obviously. How could she do that? Who else had she told? Hadn't they agreed to keep it a secret?

He closed his eyes. Was this really the time to worry about _that_?

His wall had been down for several minutes now and he'd gotten nothing from Ginny yet.

'I'm trying,' he said. 'But I'm not getting anything. She's probably Stunned.'

She had to be Stunned. Because if she wasn't Stunned, that meant she was either dead or purposely ignoring his attempts to reach her. And both of those options were inconceivable

But was it all that hard to imagine that Ginny would be purposely ignoring him? After what she'd done?

Snape hadn't abducted her from The Burrow. He'd contacted her with a time and a place, and she'd gone. Why? How could she even _think _it would be a good idea? She had to have known that she'd end up in trouble.

She _was _in trouble, wasn't she?

Yes. She was in grave danger. Because there was no other possible explanation. Snape was the enemy. Snape had taken her so he could lure Harry there, and then he would try to kill them both. That was the only logical thing.

But what about _Ginny's_ behaviour was logical?

Soon, the Order and the Weasley family were all converged at Headquarters. They were coming up with a plan, a strategy. They were dissecting both letters, bit by bit.

But when Harry looked at the faces of Ginny's brothers, he knew that they were all thinking the same thing.

For one reason or another, she had done this because of Harry.

……………………………………………………………

Panic was a funny thing. It was more than an emotion that reared up deep inside of someone. It was a physical thing. A living, breathing thing that took up too much space in a room that Ron was already suffocating in to begin with.

What could Ginny have been thinking? Going with Snape? That _was _what happened, wasn't it?

He would feel awful if Ginny had been snatched right out from under their noses, through no fault of her own, and everyone was silently blaming her and wondering what the hell could have possessed her to join Snape.

_Nothing _could get Ginny to join Snape. There was more to the story. Something wasn't matching up. Ron knew his sister nearly as well as he knew himself. They were Weasleys, and maybe they did unreasonable things from time to time, but they didn't run off with the enemy. The didn't know much, but they knew where they stood in this war and they knew that disappearing with a known Death Eater was unacceptable and just bloody stupid in general.

No. Ginny couldn't have gone voluntarily. Ron had faith in his little sister. She lost her head when it came to this war, and she jumped at even the smallest chance to help Harry … but getting herself captured _again _didn't help Harry at all. Did it?

There was some other explanation for this madness. Something they were overlooking.

But even if it was the truth – even if Ginny _had _gone to Hogwarts to meet Snape – she was in trouble now. She was in way over her head. She needed the Order to help her. She needed her family to help her. And there was nothing Ron wouldn't do to get her back.

Every second felt like an hour. Did they really need a strategy? Couldn't they just Apparate to Hogsmeade and save his sister already? This was bloody ridiculous.

Ron kept his eyes glued to Harry, waiting for some sort of sign – a change of expression, a sigh, _anything _– that meant Ginny was communicating with him.

Merlin, what if Ginny was dead?

She wasn't. She couldn't be.

Right?

No. Harry would know. Harry would have to know. When Harry had been half-dead, Ginny had known. She'd been a bloody mess because of it. So all Ron had to do was monitor Harry and everything would eventually work out. Because Harry didn't know what it was to fail, especially when a Weasley was concerned. Was there anyone in Ron's family that Harry _hadn't _saved at one time or another?

'We have to get to Hogsmeade,' Charlie said, as if nobody else had considered this.

'We need a strategy,' said Tonks. 'We can't just go rushing in. We don't even know what part of Hogsmeade they're holding her in. And we don't know how many of them are there. We have no idea what to expect.'

'Let's go,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Our strategies are usually shot to hell anyway. We have to go get my baby.'

'We'll split up,' Harry said. 'Charlie can take Tonks, Kingsley, Fred, George, Percy, Mr Weasley and Mundungus and spread out and look from The Three Broomsticks to Zonkos. Ron, Hermione, Bill, Mrs Weasley, Remus and Professor McGonagall will come with me. We'll look past Zonkos, to The Hog's Head to Madam Puddifoot's. The second anyone sees anything or needs any help, send up sparks like at the Triwizard Tournament.'

'Sounds fair enough,' said Bill. 'No more talking – let's _go_.'

……………………………………………………………

Hogsmeade was hell. Thinking back to the first time Harry had ever come here, it was nearly unrecognizable now. Everything was empty and deserted and dark. They were the only ones there, and Harry tried so hard to remember a time that he had laughed with Ron and Hermione here, shouting to hear each other over the sounds of all the other people around them.

It was so cold, but Harry couldn't even begin to feel anything but rage. They'd kidnapped Ginny. Didn't they realize that Harry was going to stop at nothing to get her back? Or – at the very least – that he was going to die trying? They were all going to suffer for this. For taking her.

And directly behind that thought was another:

_Ginny could've gone with them voluntarily_.

He never thought this day would come. The day that he'd actually have to doubt Ginny on something that _mattered_. But this wasn't just him overreacting and jumping to ridiculous conclusions. She'd gotten a letter from Snape and she'd _of course _recognized the handwriting, just as Harry and Hermione had. She'd lied to her mother and slipped away to meet him. Those were all facts.

Whether Ginny had been ambushed by Death Eaters or had gone all on her own, she was gone and it was up to the rest of them to save her. Had Ginny voluntarily done this? Did she realize how much danger she was putting everyone in? What reward could she _possibly _be getting out of this deal that would be worth potentially leading Harry, her family, and the Order straight into a trap?

Madam Puddifoot's came into view and Harry cringed at the memory of himself and Cho in fifth year. If they lived through this war and Hogwarts reopened, would Ginny make him take her there? And would he mind as much as he had with Cho?

It felt as though it would be a million more years before Hogwarts reopened and things went back to normal. He probably wouldn't be around to see it. But Ginny would. He knew she would. She would live to see another Hogsmeade weekend at Hogwarts. He would make sure of that. Because no matter how utterly stupid she'd been to walk straight into this trap, and no matter how much hell he was going to give her later, she was still the only thing in the world that was worth him fighting for.

_Harry_?

He nearly jumped when he heard Ginny's voice. When had she put her wall down?

_Gin_? _Are you okay_?_ Where the hell are you_?

_The Shrieking Shack_,_ I think_.

'Ginny's at the Shrieking Shack!' he yelled, and took off in a run. He couldn't tell if the others were following, but he didn't particularly care. He didn't need them, anyway. The way his fingertips were tingling now, he felt as though he could take out every Death Eater all on his own without even batting an eye.

_I'll be right there_.

_You will_? _Wait ­_– _what d'you mean_?

_I'm on my way_. _How many are there with you_?

_I don't know _… _about seven_. _But there's more outside_. _They've got something planned_, _Harry_. _Please don't do something stupid_.

_Don't worry_, he thought. _There's nothing I could do that would be stupider than what you did_.

……………………………………………………………

Ron struggled to catch up to Harry. And the rest of them struggled to catch up to Ron. They met up with the other search party outside of The Three Broomsticks.

'She's at the Shrieking Shack,' Harry yelled to them as they passed.

Charlie was behind Ron instantly, yelling back, 'How the hell do you know that?'

It occurred to Ron that Charlie was the only one who had questioned Harry. Even though nobody else (except Ron and Hermione) realized that Harry and Ginny had a connection that allowed them to communicate in such a peculiar way, everybody had followed without wondering how Harry could have possibly acquired this new information.

They were less than a hundred feet from the Shrieking Shack when they met up with the first wave of Death Eaters.

Ron's eyes instantly searched the crowd of people for Hermione, but he didn't get much time to look before he heard someone yell _Stupefy_! and everything went black.

……………………………………………………………

So many things were happening at once. Harry didn't even realize that a curse had been thrown his way until he found himself being pushed to the ground. Snape collapsed beside him.

But wait – did that make sense? Had Snape just protected Harry? What the _hell_ was going on?

He crawled over and shoved Snape, none too gently, but the git didn't stir. _Bugger_. What was Snape playing at by jumping in front of Harry as if they were on the same bloody side. As if either of them had any sort of obligation to the other?

He hated himself then, because he was going to have to do something that he would probably hate himself for later. But if Snape had just intentionally saved his life … he couldn't just leave without at least trying to help …

Could he?

He knew the answer. Of course he could.

But he didn't want to.

And not for noble, heroic reasons, either.

Even if this really was what happened, Harry still hated Snape with every ounce of his being. And he would not hesitate to do to Snape what Snape had done to Dumbledore back at Hogwarts. But not now.

He refused to be in Severus Snape's debt for the rest of eternity. Just as Snape had once saved Harry because he couldn't stand the thought of being in James Potter's debt, Harry was going to save Snape.

Snape didn't get to die like this. He didn't get to look like a good person. He didn't deserve the credit he'd get if everyone knew he died in a valiant attempt at saving Harry Potter from a nasty (and apparently fatal) curse.

He leaned forward and pressed his palm against his enemy's forehead, opening his eyes wider than ever and trying to remember everything he could from his training with McGonagall. Things were so much harder to remember outside of the controlled environment of a classroom or private lesson. Honestly, if his teachers were ever going to give a real attempt at helping him becoming a better warrior, they should seriously consider simulating genuine battle scenes the next time they tried to teach him something. At least then he'd be able to know whether or not he was _truly _capable.

Snape's forehead was sweaty – and greasy, of course – and Harry pressed harder, willing this to work. He took several deep breaths and felt his senses becoming more acute. He could nearly _feel _some of his energy draining out of his fingertips and into the bastard lying before him.

And when his former Potion's Master opened his eyes, gasping for breath, Harry removed his hand and left.

……………………………………………………………

**Review, and remind me that this shit is still worth writing even though this chapter was probably downright _painful _to read.**

**Read the new one-shots, _Despondence_ and _Ashes_.**


	49. Hope

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**It's six in the morning and I need sleep, but my mind wants to write and there's nothing I can do to talk it out of this. My inspiration has returned to me (though probably only temporarily) in the form of my big brother, who sees what everyone else chooses not to see and stays up all night watching lame 80s movies with me. It's amazing how it's the little things that can restore my faith that there are still people out there worth loving. **

**I hope you guys are happy with this chapter and this story. I've told myself over and over that it doesn't matter, that I'm writing this for me and nobody else. But it does matter – so much – and it blows my mind that for every person out there sending me a negative email demanding an update, there are five sending me messages saying _I hope you're doing all right and update when you can, if you can_. It's so bad how we as humans have the undeniable tendency to focus on the negative and ignore the positive. So please, read this chapter and then get the hell off the computer and go focus on your own positives before they're gone. Love.**

**ps, Snape wasn't brought back from the dead because he wasn't dead yet, just close.**

**Chapter Forty-Nine: Hope  
**……………………………………………………………

It took Ron a few moments upon waking up to realize that he was in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. Alone.

Where the hell was everyone?

How did he get here? Could he leave?

What happened at Hogsmeade? Was everything over? Had he missed it?

What had happened to him?

Was _anyone _here with him?

Two voices cut through his thoughts. 'Hello?' he called. He heard a squeal and suddenly his curtains were being pulled back to reveal Hermione's excited face.

She was standing over him, her arm in a sling and a rather nasty-looking cut on her neck, but _alive_. And that was really all that mattered.

'You're awake!' she cried.

'Yeah,' said Ron. He managed to sit up with her help. 'What the hell happened?' he asked, and then a more important question – 'Is Ginny okay? And everyone else?'

Hermione nodded. Ginny appeared behind her, looking completely fine and giving no indication that she'd been held captive by Death Eaters mere hours before.

It was still hours, right? He hadn't been out for days or anything, had he?

He remembered being Stupefied, but that didn't mean it was the only thing the Death Eater's had done to him. He knew only too well what they were capable of.

'Ginny,' he said, and he reached for her before he could even think to order his arms to do it. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine,' she said. She pulled up a chair beside his bed and pouted. 'Audrey won't let me leave until she's checked me out, but nothing happened to me at all. I promise.'

'Where's Harry?'

Hermione shook her head at him as if he not only wasn't supposed to bring it up, but should know _why_ he wasn't supposed to. Ginny just shrugged.

'It was either sit with you and be in the same room as me, or do neither. So he left. But I'm sure he'll be back to see you just as soon as I'm allowed to leave. He … isn't too keen on seeing or speaking to me at the moment.'

'What?' said Ron. 'You were captured by bloody Death Eaters and he won't speak to you?'

'I wasn't captured,' Ginny whispered.

Hermione cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably.

'You – sorry, _what_?' Ron asked stupidly.

'I wasn't captured,' she repeated.

But Ron had to have heard her wrong again. Because what he'd heard didn't make any sense. If Ginny wasn't taken, how else did she end up at Hogsmeade with Snape and the others?

'Then what happened?' he demanded.

'Snape and I made a deal,' she admitted. 'I was to go with him and make it look like he'd captured me – you know, to squash any doubts that he wasn't a full-fledged Death Eater. And in turn, he'd give me a Horcrux.'

'And you _believed _him?'

'He held up his end of the deal!' said Ginny, her eyes meeting his for the first time. He was shocked at the anger he saw there. 'He tried to, at least. But Nagini's hard to control and he couldn't … there wasn't the right opportunity …'

Ron cursed. 'I can't believe you would do that!' he said. 'You almost got us all killed – and for _what_? You should know better than to trust Snape! How could you be so stupid? Harry has every right to be furious with you!'

Ginny's jaw clenched. For a moment, it seemed as though she was going to say something of utmost importance. But instead, she stood up and left. 'You can tell Audrey that I'm fine and that I don't need her to check me out,' she called over her shoulder to Hermione.

Hermione glared at Ron. 'How could you say that to her?'

'She deserved it,' said Ron. 'She made a deal with Snape. _Snape_! Remember him? The one who killed Dumbledore? The one who busted in on Bill's wedding?' He sighed. 'How could she think any good could come from working with him? I mean, wasn't he the one who took her at the wedding? What was she thinking? _Was _she thinking?'

Hermione shrugged. 'I'm not denying that what she did was incredibly dangerous and stupid. She knows that she could have led us to our deaths. She feels awful. But she thought she was helping Harry by getting a Horcrux. And now he won't speak to her. She doesn't need _you_ treating her like absolute shit, too.'

Ron's mouth quirked up. He wasn't sure he agreed with her, but nothing made him smile more than hearing Hermione say _shit_.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny returned home, though it was the last place she wanted to be. But it wasn't as though anyone would disturb her here, seeing as none of them would speak to her.

After the fight, they'd crowded around her and hugged her until she could hardly breathe. And once her parents and all of her brothers (minus Ron, who was still unconscious in the next bed) had repeated over and over that they were so grateful she was alive, they'd begun to ask questions. They asked so many, but she couldn't answer any of them the way her family had hoped.

Harry sat at Ron's bedside the entire time, listening to Ginny speak but seemingly refusing to look at her. Once she'd told them her story (and it was really only a fraction of the real story, but they didn't know that), Harry had stormed out. And then the rest of her family had left, each wearing a matching mask of disappointment and concern.

Hermione, bless her, had pretended to understand. She'd pretended that she didn't think what Ginny did was the stupidest thing ever. But Hermione's vote of confidence couldn't cancel out the fact that everyone else hated her for what she'd done.

Ginny was starving. She refused to think about this anymore until after she'd eaten. She turned into the kitchen and found her mother sitting with the twins, Charlie and Harry.

'Ginny,' said Mrs Weasley, her voice tight. She didn't look at her daughter. Nobody else even attempted to make eye contact. 'You should be in the Hospital Wing.'

_Why_?_ So you don't have to face the fact that you can't even look at me_?

'Ron's awake,' she said. 'He asked where you were, Harry.'

Harry said nothing. He didn't even flinch at the mention of his name.

She stood there for another moment, but nobody made any attempt to speak to her. They didn't even ask how she was feeling. It was strange that under any other circumstance, she would have loved that her family wasn't fussing over her like a baby. And yet it was almost unbearable now.

'Fine,' she said. 'Ignore me. But I went through just as much as you did today, you know.'

'You don't get to do that,' Harry yelled, and Ginny, who had turned to leave, stopped in her tracks. 'You don't get to act like some sort of victim, Ginny.'

'I am a victim,' she said, even though she knew with all of her heart that she wasn't.

'You chose to put yourself in that situation,' he argued. 'You let it happen!'

'_Do not_ act like you understand what happened, because you don't.'

'You're right,' he said. 'I don't. I can't understand how anyone could be so fucking stupid.'

Charlie looked at Harry and there was protest in his eyes, but then he looked at Ginny and it died away only to be replaced with disappointment. Then he dropped his gaze to the floor. Ginny wondered how long it would be before her brothers would be able to look at her again. Before her mother would take pity and say that it wasn't her fault, even though everyone knew that it was.

'Go to hell,' Ginny spat, and then trudged up to her bedroom. She had no right to defend herself. She had no reason to be angry. And Harry had every right and reason in the world to never forgive her for almost leading everyone in the Order to their deaths.

She had told her family only a partial truth. She'd told them that Snape had contacted her and that she'd agreed to let him "capture" her in exchange for the final Horcrux. But that was all she'd said.

She wondered if she should tell the truth – the _whole _truth. Would it make a difference? She wondered if she should tell her family about what Snape had done for her at Malfoy Manor and that she really had no reason to say no to his latest proposition. She wondered if they would understand if she explained that she'd only done what she thought was best for Harry and that surely they would have done the same for the loves of their own lives.

But hadn't she promised Snape that she wouldn't say anything? He'd asked her not to tell Harry about what he'd done for her. She didn't understand why. But for some reason, Snape hadn't been comfortable with anyone – especially Harry – knowing that he wasn't a complete traitor to the Order. Was it because he had to make sure his cover wasn't blown? Or was it because he needed to feel like he was more involved with this war than Harry was in that aspect? How could he have been sure that Ginny wouldn't tell? Had he read her mind and seen for himself that she was perfectly willing to keep his secret? Or had he merely trusted her?

The idea of Snape trusting her with something so important was laughable.

But then again, the idea of Ginny running straight to a known Death Eater and striking a deal used to be laughable as well.

She needed to contact him one more time. She had questions that he needed to answer. He owed her that much. She'd done just as much for him as he'd done for her in the past. They were even now. They were equal. And as his equal, she deserved to be leveled with.

There was a knock on her door, and her mind raced with the possibilities of who could be on the other side. Hermione, most likely. Maybe Tonks? Was it possible that her mum had come around?

She opened it and found the one person she would have bet it _wouldn't _be.

'Harry,' she said. And in her mind's eye, she imagined him saying wonderful things. She saw him apologizing, even though he had nothing to apologize for. She saw him taking her face in his hands and kissing her the way he used to so long ago, back when they could snog for hours and it would be enough.

'Hermione's still at Hogwarts and wants a change of clothes,' he said. He didn't look at her. He didn't really give an indication that he was doing anything more than speaking to the door. When had it come to this?

'Tell her to come get them herself,' she said, and then slammed the door in his face.

He pushed it back open. Hard. His eyes finally met hers, and she couldn't breathe when faced with the emotions she found there, all directed at her. Anger. Confusion. And mostly betrayal. She had seen Harry look like this only a handful of times in the past, and she had never before imagined that he could one day look at her in the same way.

She realized that she wasn't angry with Harry for treating her the way he had in the past day. She had not given him the full story, and therefore she had to accept that from his (limited) perspective, she was in the wrong and he thought that he had every right to be angry.

If she was angry at him, it was for the way he had been treating her _before _today. How everything she did or tried to do for him went unnoticed, and how she was constantly taking a back seat to this war.

It was always one thing after another. It was more important for Harry to look for Horcruxes and go to Order meetings and train than it was to spend time with his girlfriend. Ginny understood that. Voldemort was Harry's first priority, and she mostly felt lucky to come in second. But when the first thing on the list took up one hundred percent of his energy and his time … what was the difference between being second and being last?

She vowed to herself that she would stop being Harry's girlfriend and she would start being Ginny Weasley. She couldn't even pinpoint when she'd stopped being herself and had started being all about Harry again. Regardless of when and how it had happened, it was clear to Ginny that she could not expect Harry to put her first until she learned to put herself first.

She felt her resentment for him melt away, and it left her straining to feel _anything_ for him in that moment.

It was a strange thing indeed – staring at someone for whom she had felt nearly every possible emotion at one time or another, and feeling nothing

The look in his eyes didn't change, but suddenly she could breathe again, and it was both liberating and pathetic at the same time.

Neither of them had their walls down, but she knew that her next thought would be heard by Harry regardless.

_I know that we loved each other once, but I think we've lost sight of the reasons why, so can we please just take a step back and forget about all of this and maybe eventually try to remind ourselves of everything else before it's too late_?

Harry's hand twisted on the doorknob. 'I'll tell Hermione,' he said quietly, and then closed the door softly. Ginny put her hand on the wood, wishing it could be the only thing between them.

_I love you_, she mouthed.

But did she really?

She had always _loved _Harry. And she always would.

But was she _in love_ with him? She used to be. She knew that she used to be. And now? It had been so long since she'd been tested, since she'd had a reason to wonder. She didn't get butterflies in her stomach when he kissed her anymore. Was that because she was finally used to the look in his eyes when her body was pressed to his? Or was it because of something else? Something she'd been aware of all this time but had been ignoring? She knew better than almost anyone that it was so much easier to ignore a problem than to face it.

She looked around her room. So many things made her think of Harry. Did she love him because of who he was and what he made her feel? Or did she love him because he was practically a part of the family and it was what her mother had been wanting for years and years?

_If_ she still loved him, did she love him because it was easier than loving someone else? Ron never called her a slag when she kissed Harry. The twins never teased her about Harry with the same intensity as they had Michael.

When Harry did something stupid and insensitive and she forgave him, was it because she loved him with all of her heart and trusted him to never do it again? Or was it because their story was practically already written, and she continually folded under the weight of her family's expectations? Merlin knew her parents already considered Harry a son and the perfect boy for their daughter. And Ron – wouldn't Ron _love _having Harry as an official brother?

Ginny pressed a hand over her eyes and lay on her bed. She eventually fell asleep, though she couldn't tell for how long. She awoke to the sound of three sharp knocks and then the smell of dinner that hit her when the door opened.

'Hey,' Hermione said, coming into the room. 'Are you all right?'

'I guess,' said Ginny.

'What are you thinking about?'

'I love Harry,' Ginny said, her voice going up at the end the way it did when she formed questions.

'I believe that you do,' said Hermione. Ginny felt her friend's body settle beside her own on the bed. 'But what do _you_ think?'

'I think … I think I forget what it feels like to love him,' she said truthfully.

'Hmm.'

'Why do you love Ron?' she asked. 'I mean, how do you know that you do?'

'He makes me laugh,' Hermione said, and Ginny could hear the smile in her voice. 'He makes me forget that there's a war going on out there. He makes me feel smart.'

Ginny laughed. 'You don't have to be around stupid Ron to feel smart.'

'No,' Hermione said fiercely. 'Not that kind of smart. Smart like – _capable_. Like I can do anything. Like he'll be there even if I screw up.' She sighed. 'Being with him reminds me of every good time we ever had at Hogwarts and here in the summertime.'

Ginny rolled onto her side and met Hermione's eyes. 'Lately, being with Harry reminds me of when I was six years old and crying because I wasn't old enough to go out flying with the twins,' she said.

'That doesn't sound like love,' Hermione admitted.

Ginny shook her head. 'No,' she whispered. 'It doesn't.'

……………………………………………………………

McGonagall called an Order meeting the next day, and it was the only reason Harry was in the same room as Ginny. He didn't know what was going on with them, nor did he want to know. A part of him wanted to take the easy route and stay angry with her, and another part of him wanted to explore why he would rather blame her than question himself. But he was afraid of what answers he might find, and so he focused on other things. He thought of his anger for Ginny and realized it was the first time he'd felt much of anything for her in some time.

He'd felt guilty after he'd burned her a few days ago, and he'd felt scared and concerned after he discovered that she was missing. But wouldn't he feel both of those things even if the person was not Ginny?

He tried to remember the last time Ginny had made him feel something that nobody else could. He drew a blank, and although he realized that part of this was because of his current feelings for her, he also realized that this blank was not a very good sign.

Was it possible for him to fall in love with a person and automatically love her forever? Or did he have to work at it? Would he have to fall in love with Ginny a million different times? In the beginning, he could have sworn that he did just that. Everything she did had made him love her more intensely. Had they reached some sort of quota? Or had they both tuned out along the way? _Had _it been both of them? Or was it just him to blame for all of this?

Had Ginny gone through with this crazy deal with Snape because she loved Harry and thought she was helping him? Or had she done it because she was desperate for him to notice her amidst all the talks of Horcruxes and Voldemort and Order missions?

Guilt settled low in his stomach and transformed his anger for Ginny into anger for himself. He was not ready to talk to her yet. He was not ready to jump back into what they'd had together. But he knew that he would eventually, and he knew that he would have to make sure he'd sorted out his own problems before he attempted to take on both of theirs.

'I'm starving,' Ron announced. 'Can we get on with this?'

Ron had only just been released from the Hospital Wing, and nobody knew better than Harry how restless one could become being confined to a bed for any period of time.

'Just what have you got scheduled for later that's so important?' asked Fred.

'Nothing,' said Ron irritably. 'I just don't want to hang around here all day waiting for everyone to find a seat around the bloody kitchen table.'

'Well,' said George. 'There are some people who apparently would rather peel of their own skin than sit beside each other.'

'So we've got to allow time for a little bit of rearranging,' said George.

All of Harry's self-control went into keeping his eyes from seeking out Ginny, who was sitting down at the other end of the table, far away from the rest of her family. The spell over her parents had broken and they were no longer treating her as if she had the Dark Mark burned onto her arm. Her brothers were speaking to her, though mostly only to comment on the weather or to ask her to pass something at dinner. Percy was the only one of her brothers who spoke as though nothing had happened, and Harry found himself warming to Percy in a way he never had before, though he'd never admit to it. He was glad that most of the awkwardness was over for Ginny and her family. Just because he wasn't ready to revert back to the way things had been with Ginny didn't mean he didn't want everyone else to be there for her.

'All right,' said McGonagall. 'I suppose I should thank you, Mr Weasley, for your patience.'

Ron's ears turned pink. 'No problem, Professor,' he muttered. 'Really. Take your time.' His stomach rumbled and he frowned.

'To start things off, I am pleased to see that nobody was seriously injured, despite the heroics attempted by several of you at Hogsmeade.'

Harry could feel McGonagall's eyes on him, and he could not for his life figure out which part of his actions she found to be the least bit heroic.

'As for how this situation developed in the first place –'

'Ginny's not talking,' said Charlie.

'I've already said everything there is to say,' Ginny said fiercely. Though he hated that she wasn't offering up as much information as she probably could, Harry felt proud that she wasn't letting Charlie walk all over her.

There appeared to be several people who took issue with this answer. The room quickly erupted into argument, and McGonagall struggled to regain control.

'Very well, Miss Weasley,' said McGonagall. 'We will move on.'

She dropped the morning's issue of the _Daily Prophet_ onto the table.

'I trust everyone had an opportunity to read the front page,' she said, and everyone nodded.

Harry frowned. He stopped reading the _Daily Prophet _some time ago, especially after his own name began popping up even more than usual, but because of Hermione and Mr Weasley's tendency to discuss current events at the Ministry, he ended up hearing about the news each day at breakfast anyway. It occurred to him that there had been no discussion today. Why?

Harry reached for the paper at the same time as Ginny. He hesitated for a moment before shrugging and pushing it toward her. He studied her face as she took in the headline and was shocked to see her eyes well up with tears.

'I – excuse me,' she whispered, and then fled.

The need to go after her was overwhelming. Instead, Harry grabbed the paper and blinked down at big black letters that read, _Severus Snape found tortured_,_ dead_.

'I don't get it,' Harry said. He meant that he didn't get why Ginny was crying, but the others seemed to misunderstand.

'Neither do I, actually,' said Hermione. 'The article says that Snape was tortured and then killed, and it says Bellatrix Lestrange was the one to do it.'

'Lestrange?' Harry repeated. 'Why would she …?'

'Is it possible that Snape wasn't a Death Eater anymore?' asked Bill. 'I mean, could he have tried to switch sides again and they caught him and killed him for it?'

'Maybe it wasn't really Lestrange who killed him,' Harry said. 'Maybe the reporters at the _Prophet _are just saying that to boost their sales.'

There was a heavily silence for some time. Harry didn't know what to believe, but he knew that there was no way Snape would ever try to do the right thing and come back to the Order after everything that had happened. _Once a traitor, always a traitor_.

Harry was so lost in thought that he almost didn't realize when the conversations began again.

'Is there anything else to discuss?' asked George.

'We should probably be getting back to the shop,' Fred said.

McGonagall shook her head. She appeared to still be contemplating the situation with Snape. 'No,' she said. 'I believe that is all for now.'

Everyone stood up and began to make their ways out of the kitchen.

'At least something good came from all this,' Mundungus said cheerfully as he passed. 'You wouldn't believe the beautiful snake I've got back at my flat.'

'What did you say?' Harry asked, standing up. He reached out and closed his fingers around the man's arm.

Mundungus grinned. 'You heard me!' he said. 'Snake skin! And lovely snake skin at that. Very fashionable. Worth a bundle, I bet.'

'Wait – where did you get it?'

'Hogsmeade, of course,' said Mundungus. 'Caught him myself! Nasty bugger was slithering all over the place. Saw my opportunity and I took it!'

Harry felt his heart speed up. Was he the only one listening to what Mundungus was saying? How come nobody else seemed to realize what this meant? Was he losing his mind? Or was he the only one thinking clearly?

'Do you still have the snake?' he asked desperately. 'Or have you just got the skin?'

'Nah,' said Mundungus. 'I've still got the snake for now. Stunned it until I can figure out what to do. Didn't want to ruin the skin with any sort of curse, you know. Could be worth a lot of money! I suppose I'll have to do a bit of research on the subject, yeah?'

'Professor,' Harry sputtered, turning to face the others. 'He – he's got Nagini!'

……………………………………………………………

**Review.**


	50. Purgatory

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**So who else is super excited that this story will be over in a few chapters?**

**Chapter Fifty: Purgatory  
**……………………………………………………………

Mundungus being Mundungus, it had taken quite a while for McGonagall to convince him to give up the snake. He'd agreed eventually, though Harry didn't doubt that it was more out of fear of McGonagall than out of any desire to do the right thing. And when McGonagall pointed her wand at Nagini and did the spell – when the spell identified that stupid snake as a Horcrux and everyone watched as the final extra piece of Voldemort's soul was destroyed – Harry felt his legs give out and sank into the nearest chair.

He was not aware of everyone else clearing out and leaving him alone, nor was he aware of the fact that surely hours had passed and he had not moved once. He sat with his hands covering his face, trying to familiarize himself with the strange, too-real weight that had settled itself firmly onto his shoulders.

How long would it be before he could remember to breathe on his own again? Before his hands would stop shaking enough for him to properly hold his own wand?

This was _it_.

There was nothing standing between Harry and Voldemort now. There was no reason to sit back and watch as Death Eaters wreaked havoc on the world. He could do something about it now. He _would _do something about it.

Desire and obligation were two separate things. Two _opposite _things. Harry had yet to meet a person (other than Hermione, perhaps) who took genuine pleasure from the tasks they were forced into performing.

And so it was incredibly fortunate – miraculous, even – that the greatest obligation in Harry's life was also his greatest desire. That which would give him the greatest satisfaction would also give him the most grief. In order to avenge the ones he had loved and lost, he would have to lose others whom he loved.

It was no secret that Harry had been dealt a difficult hand in life. But he had lately begun telling himself that it could be worse. It had become his mantra. He was an orphan who had grown up with terrible family, but then again, he could have been left without _any_ family to protect him. He had lost Sirius, the only father figure he'd ever known, but at least he had met Sirius in the first place. He had to fight Voldemort, arguably the most powerful wizard ever, but he had a whole army of people who loved him and were willing to fight to the death with him.

_It could be worse_. Harry believed this in the same way he believed that he could actually beat Voldemort – he had no proof and surely no real reason to place any faith in the idea, but it was the only thing that got him out of bed in the morning.

The surface of the table felt cool under his palm, and as he idly traced the patterns he found, he thought of everything Voldemort had done – not just to Harry, but to everyone. To the witches and wizards who had been brave enough to stand up to him and even to the ones who had faithfully served him until they were no longer needed. To the innocent Muggles who didn't even get to choose a side.

How many children were orphaned, just as Harry was, because of Voldemort? How many mothers had buried their children because of him? For the past twenty years, so many lives had been taken and even more had been destroyed as a result. How many more would there be? If Harry didn't act now, what would the future hold for the billions of people who didn't deserve any part of this?

It came on so suddenly that it took Harry's breath away. One moment he had been confident but concerned, and the next he was overcome with a new intensity, one that made his fingertips itch and his hair stand on end.

His chair scraped across the floor as he stood, but he didn't hear the awful noise that echoed through the kitchen when it did, nor did he hear Mrs Black's shrieks. He walked to the fireplace, and it was as if he was watching this scene unfold from outside his own body. He could see the determination of his own stride and the way his eyes were so dark that not even Ginny would be able to identify them as his.

He was going to do this. He was most likely going to die trying, but as long as he took Voldemort with him, he couldn't even begin to care.

And that was probably the cleanest ending Harry could envision, anyway.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny waited in the twins' room for Harry to come home. It was hours before he came in, and by then, she was too exhausted from everything to even want to talk to him. But he'd spotted her, and so she would have to spill her guts or strip naked and pass off her presence as an effort to seduce him into forgiving her. And knowing Harry, it would be far easier to just explain the truth to him.

'Is anything wrong?' he asked.

'No,' she said.

'Okay,' he said stiffly. 'Then … what're you doing here?'

She thought it was sad that neither of them could swallow their pride and apologize, but even though she realized this, she wasn't going to give in.

'It occurred to me that for two people with the ability to read each others' minds, we keep an awful lot of secrets,' she said. He appeared to consider this, and at his nod, she continued. 'So I've come to tell you the truth about why I went to Hogsmeade with Snape.'

Harry's demeanor changed at her words. 'You mean you lied before?'

Ginny felt herself shrug. This was where it would get tricky. She'd practiced this over and over in her mind, but every line she'd come up with had deserted her now. 'I didn't _lie_,' she said. 'I just … neglected to tell you certain things that would probably make a difference in one way or another.'

Harry swallowed thickly. 'Go on, then,' he said.

'I know you aren't going to believe it, but Snape wasn't a Death Eater. Well – he obviously was, I mean,' she stammered. 'But not really. And he _did _kill Dumbledore, but it wasn't for the reasons you think it was.'

Dumbledore's death was always a touchy subject with Harry, especially with what she was proposing, and he immediately jumped to argue with her.

'I don't want to cast a Silencing Charm on you, but I will if you don't let me talk,' she threatened. 'I need to say this.'

He crossed his arms and she could almost _feel _him checking out of this conversation. 'So hurry up and talk. I want to go to bed.'

She frowned at him but continued. He was giving her more time to explain than she deserved. And he hadn't thrown her out of his room yet, which was a good sign.

'When I was at the Manor, Snape saved my life,' she said. 'A ton of different Death Eaters would come down to where I was being held to torture me. But when Snape came in, he didn't do any of that rubbish. He helped me. When the Order got there, he came to me and told me what was going on. He left the door open for you. Surely you remember that. And what about the fact that I wasn't restrained when you got to me? Didn't you think that was strange?'

Harry's stubborn eyes did not leave the floor, and it led Ginny to believe that he did indeed remember all of those things and could not come up with a reasonable explanation for any of them.

'Snape is the reason I made it out of there alive, Harry.'

'Why didn't you tell me this before?' asked Harry. His voice was confused but softer, and she was thankful.

'He asked me not to,' she explained. 'He didn't want you knowing.'

'Why not?'

'I don't know,' she admitted. It wasn't as though he'd answered any of her questions when they'd been in contact. 'I think maybe because he wanted to keep you guessing about what he was doing. And maybe because he didn't want you to think he was doing you any favours.'

Harry cursed. 'But he _did_. If what you're saying is true, at least. And if he really is dead now … that means he died with me in his debt.'

'No,' she said. 'If anyone owed him anything for what he did, it was me. And that's why I went to Hogwarts when he sent me that message.'

'And you didn't have any suspicions?'

'Of course I did,' she insisted. 'I had a million. A giant part of me expected to be ambushed by Death Eaters before I even got to the Quidditch stands. But I still had to go.'

'_Why_?'

He stared at her, confusion all over his face. It blew her mind that he still didn't understand that there was no limit to what she would do for him.

'I suspected he wanted to talk about you. I went because I wanted to hear what he had to say. And I'm glad I did. He explained that people were starting to doubt his loyalty to Voldemort, and he promised a Horcrux if I went with him and pretended that he'd captured me. It was a win-win situation.'

'But it could have been a trick!'

'I _knew _that,' she said. 'But I also knew that if he was telling me the truth, you'd end up with the last Horcrux.'

She wanted to reach for him, but it still didn't feel right. She wondered if there was enough time for them to make it right, or if it was too late.

'Harry, all you've ever wanted is to end this. And all I've ever wanted is for you to be happy. I didn't care what I had to do as long as I could help you. I still don't care. I know that we got Nagini and that means everything I did was worth it, even if you hate me now.'

Harry put his hand on her cheek, and she knew that she wasn't the only one feeling strange about them. 'I don't hate you,' he insisted. 'I could never hate you. I was just angry.'

'I'm not trying to get you to forgive me,' she said. 'To be honest, I don't think there's anything to forgive. I didn't do anything that you wouldn't have done if the situation was reversed. Am I right?'

'I don't know,' muttered Harry. It was a hideous lie and they both knew it.

'If I was in your position and you had the chance to help me in a huge way, would you do it? Even if it put you at risk?'

'Of course I would,' he said. 'But it's different.'

'It's _not_.'

'Ginny –'

'I'm not a child,' she cried.

Harry looked sideways at her. 'What?'

'You treat me like I haven't even finished first year or something,' she said.

'No, I don't –'

'You _do_. Even if you don't realize it. And I think that's one of the reasons why things are so bad between us lately.'

'Things aren't bad between us,' he said halfheartedly.

'Aren't they?'

Harry sighed and sat down on the bed. 'I don't know if I can believe that Snape was innocent all along. Maybe I'm letting my personal feelings get in the way, but I can't help that,' he said. 'But … I believe that you believe he was. That's all I can say, really.'

'That's all I wanted to hear,' she said softly, sitting down beside him.

'I'm sorry that I didn't trust you,' he told her.

'I'm sorry that I gave you a reason to not trust me.'

Harry stared at his hands. 'What the hell is going on with us?' he asked.

Ginny shook her head. 'I don't know. Things don't feel the same anymore. Do they?'

'No,' he said. 'And I don't know what to do about it.'

'Neither do I.'

Harry looked up at her and she was shocked at the worry she found on his face. 'I can't lose you. But part of me feels like I already did when I wasn't looking.'

'You didn't,' she insisted. 'And you won't. Ever.'

'Now that the Horcruxes are out of the way … things are so much more serious. And there isn't time to sit around and try to figure things out.'

She rested her head against his shoulder. She'd been waiting for him to apologize and be the first to admit he was wrong, but hadn't she'd swallowed her pride and given in before he had just by approaching him tonight? It was funny how things happened without her wanting them to, and yet everything ended up being okay. Perhaps their relationship was stronger than either she or Harry realized.

'Gin,' he whispered. 'If I die –'

And with his words, whatever small piece of mind she'd had vanished.

'You are not going to die.'

'If I die,' he began again, 'I don't want to leave things unfinished.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean – things could be over at any time now. Tomorrow, even. As much as we try to prepare for it, none of us are ever going to be ready,' he admitted. 'I don't want to die … but I _really _don't want to die and leave you here with all these questions. If there's anything you want to know, just ask me now. Okay?'

She tried blinking away her tears, but it only made things worse. She hated that Harry continued to bring this up. But what she hated even more was the fact that she suddenly did not feel so confident and reassured of their fates. When Ron told her that Nagini had been destroyed, it had made everything real in a way it had not been before. It was amazing to think that she'd been living at the heart of this war for so long and had been able to stay blind to most of the facts. The odds were certainly not in Harry's favour and she had managed to remain oblivious to that until tonight.

She thought of every time she'd yelled at her family for treating her like some naïve little girl, and she felt shame in the realization that a part of her had been acting that way all along.

She tried to imagine that the war was over and Harry had been killed. She knew that despite Harry's efforts, things would always feel unfinished. She would spend the rest of her life wondering about a million different things. Should she ask him now? Or was he only offering to give himself peace of mind?

She could only ask him so much. She could ask about the big things – _Could you see us having kids one day_? But she'd never know the little things, like whether or not those children would have had his eyes or his smile or his utter inability to accept even the smallest of praises.

_Would you want to be a professional Quidditch player or even a teacher at Hogwarts_? But she'd never know the joy of cheering after he won his first World Cup match or of listening to him talk about the funny thing that happened in class one day.

_Would we buy a house close to The Burrow or move away like Bill and Charlie_? But she'd never know what colour their bedroom would be or if she'd be more inclined to cook if she had her own kitchen to mess around in. Would they put a Quidditch Pitch in the backyard, and would Hermione let Ron bring their kids over to play on it?

'Okay,' she said. 'Say the war is over and you're alive. What next?'

She kept it vague because she wanted as many different answers as he could give her.

'If I'd survived,' he said, and was she the only one who realized he was talking in the wrong tense? 'We would've gone back to Hogwarts. I would've waited for you to finish and then I would have made you marry me. And I don't know what I would've wanted to do with the rest of my life, but having you with me would've been enough.'

Harry's answer was both exactly what she needed to hear and the only thing she couldn't bear to know.

'I wish things could work out like that,' he said.

'They still can,' she vowed. And she knew then that she would give it everything she had. Harry was not the only one who would be fighting for his destiny.

……………………………………………………………

The Final Battle would end it all. It was almost funny to think that all of this could be over at any given time – that the only thing keeping Harry from his destiny was a variable which he could now control.

He thought back over everything that had ever happened and knew that every single second of his life had been leading up to this. This battle would be the culmination of _everything_.

Harry wasn't an idiot. He had known for quite some that this would have to end soon. But the Horcruxes had always been a factor. They had always been the last hurdle to overcome. They'd always been the first thing on his mind, and they'd always kept him from getting ahead of himself. And now, all six of them were destroyed. There was nothing else to do but go after Voldemort.

Was he ready?

A part of Harry thought that perhaps he would never be.

But there was another, larger part that insisted he was. And really, wasn't his whole entire life just preparation for this?

Perhaps he was not more powerful than Voldemort, but did that mean he couldn't win? If he was faster, if he was fiercer – he could very well do it. And who said he _wasn't _more powerful than Voldemort, anyway? There was no denying the fact that Harry's ability to do wandless magic had far surpassed what anyone had expected. And even _he _didn't know what he was still capable of doing.

He had so many questions. And perhaps the most frustrating and yet the most gratifying this was that he was the only one with the answers.

From here on out, Harry answered to no one. He was the only person with even a _hope _of defeating Voldemort. Hermione could no longer nag him about all the things he had to get out of the way before fighting. He had done everything he had to do.

There was a great moment where he was aware of all that he had overcome, all that he had accomplished, and he allowed himself to feel every ounce of pride he deserved to feel. He opened himself up to every emotion he could muster, both positive and negative, just incase the next sunrise brought the Final Battle with it and he would never have another chance to feel anything at all.

There were so many things that had spent too long lurking in the corners of his mind. He did not want to spend another minute avoiding anything. He settled into bed and instead of clearing his mind as he usually did, he worked on bringing forth every memory he had, one by one. He examined each from every angle, taking from it what he needed before storing it away forever more.

Sometime in the night, he decided that he was grateful for his life. He loved his parents and would always wish to know them, but if he hadn't been alone that day at King's Cross, he might never have met the Weasleys. Some of his best memories were of summers and Christmases spent The Burrow. He didn't have the red hair, but Mr and Mrs Weasley had always loved him just as much as they did their own children. He couldn't imagine not going down to breakfast every morning and seeing Mr Weasley reading the paper or Mrs Weasley making enough food to feed thirty people instead of just ten or eleven. What would he do without the twins and their inappropriate jokes? Where would he be without best friends like Ron and Hermione? Or _Ginny_? His hand on Mrs Weasley's clock might've been pointing to _Mortal Peril_, but as long as it was there, he couldn't begin to care about where it pointed.

He did not sleep that night, but when the morning came, it was as though he had slept a hundred years. His soul felt purged. For the first time in a long time, Harry thought that he could die content, leaving everything exactly how it needed to be.

……………………………………………………………

**Short but I think I actually like it. Review.**


	51. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. **

**This took way longer than it should have, but I'm sure you all know that. I went one direction, then erased it and went another, and then still wasn't happy and re-wrote it a few more times. I basically got nothing except a headache. I kept putting it off. In the end, I've decided to just post the first half so you at least have something to read while I re-work the second part. I definitely apologize. **

**Chapter Fifty-One: The Beginning  
**……………………………………………………………

It happened in February. There was no warning. No signs. Or perhaps Harry's whole life could have been looked at as a warning.

Everyone was prepared for it. As prepared as anyone could be for the event that would alter the world as any of them knew it. To say that they'd spent the last few months getting ready was an understatement. And in many ways, it was also a gross, exaggerated lie.

It seemed almost as though everything that had ever happened, from the first day of Hogwarts and onward, was just one drill after another meant to prepare them for this. The troll on Halloween, Fluffy, the Chamber of Secrets, the Department of Mysteries, the battle at Hogwarts, the fight at the wedding, Order missions, Horcrux missions … they had all served the same purpose in the end.

Hermione had been preparing for this day her whole life. She truly did believe that. Even before she had ever heard of Hogwarts or Voldemort or Harry Potter, she had been preparing herself for what would happen today. It was _destiny_. She tried to imagine where her life would be now if she'd never gotten her letter and drew a blank. She was meant to be a part of this fight, and though she was a girl who had spent her life believing in science and circumstance rather than fate, she knew that it was fate, and fate alone, that had led her all the way to this moment.

Her elementary school teachers and her parents and even the authors whose books she had read – they'd all taken it upon themselves to pass along information so she would be able to fall back on it one day in an emergency. _This _was the day; the emergency. If she had ever learned one useful thing in her life, she was going to need it to come out today.

Her hands shook at the silent suggestion that she'd wasted her time. Harry and Ron had been out training, gaining experience that would give them a great advantage in this fight. And where had she been during all of that? She'd been back at The Burrow with her nose in a book. What if she'd been wrong? There were some situations that simply could not be simplified by any amount of book smarts and cleverness. What if this was one of those very situations?

She wished that this life could be laid out in front of her like one of her books. She wished she could pretend that the story was already written and that there would still be thousands of pages left to live out after this chapter was over. She needed to know if it was going to be a happy ending or not. For the first time in her life, Hermione wanted to read the last page first.

She felt helpless, which was perhaps the worst feeling in the world. She was at a point where envisioning her loved ones happy and safe and alive years into the future was the only thing that kept her going and also the only thing that she had no right to do.

But years and years from now, when Voldemort is just a chapter in the history books and Harry Potter is even less, the smell of an old, dusty book will still bring Hermione back to the moment that both started and ended everything.

……………………………………………………………

Something had changed on that morning. And even before. Lying in bed the previous night, things had been different for Ron. And on one level or another, they had all recognized what it meant. The air seemed thicker somehow, charged with something nobody could even begin to understand. Hermione would later refer to it as magical, and he would question whether or not that word held any significant meaning at all within the Wizarding World.

'Here,' Hermione said. 'I found a few more that I think we could stand to go through again.'

Ron looked up at her and groaned when he saw the thickness of the books she was carrying over. She dropped them onto the table with an echoing _thud_. 'Wait a second,' he said, glancing at the topmost book. 'We've already looked through these.'

'Which is why I said we should go through them _again_,' she said, sitting down at the table and diving into one of them.

'We don't even know what we're looking for,' said Ron. Was he the only one who realized that?

'When I find it, I'll know,' she said. She didn't sound as sure as she had yesterday or even the day before, though.

'There isn't time for this.'

'There has to be,' she argued, her eyes still scanning the pages before her. 'We just – we have to find something. There _has_ to be something here that we've overlooked. Something that will help Harry.'

Two weeks ago, when Hermione first announced to him that she was going to read every single book in the Hogwarts library because she knew that the key to helping Harry was in one of them, he'd offered to help her. But if he was honest with himself, he knew that this was ridiculous and a total waste of time. Ron knew the truth, and the truth was that all of this was up to Harry now and no one else.

Since destroying the last Horcrux, he'd spent practically every night tossing and turning, trying to figure out the right way to help his best friend. And as corny as it sounded, Ron knew that the best shot Harry had at winning this was if Harry overpowered Voldemort by channeling the positive emotions he had for everyone. There were no ancient, mysterious spells in a book buried in the back of the Restricted Section that would do the trick. It didn't matter how well Harry had mastered his wandless magic. Ultimately, it would come down to the one and only thing Harry had that Voldemort could not even understand – love.

'The only way for us to help Harry now is to just be there when it happens,' he told her.

'That isn't good enough,' she insisted, slamming the book shut and reaching for another.

Ron grabbed her hands before they could snatch up another book. He forced her to look at him. 'You're right,' he said. 'It's not good enough. But it's all we can do. It's all we've ever been able to do.'

'Ron –'

'Harry isn't like us,' he pressed. 'He … he's the reason all of this is happening. He's the reason everyone's kept going for as long as they have. All we can do is fight to keep as many Death Eaters away from him as we can, because he's the only one who can do anything about _anything_ now. And I know that it makes you feel useless, because it makes me feel the same way … but even if just being there isn't good enough for us, it's always been so much more than Harry has ever asked for.'

Her expression changed, her features tensing and relaxing at the same time, as if she was realizing for the first time in her life that she was wrong and didn't know how to go about it. It occurred to Ron that this probably _was _the first time Hermione had ever been wrong. She started to say something, but Tonks burst through the doors and put an end to their conversation.

'You've got to get to Headquarters,' she ordered them.

'Why?' asked Ron. But if the sudden spike in his heart rate was any indication, he already knew.

'Death Eaters are here. Just outside the gates,' Harry said, coming in behind Tonks. 'The wards aren't as strong as they were when Dumbledore was here. They won't hold much longer and we've got to get organized.'

'Let's go,' Hermione said. She rushed out of the room and Ron was with her every step of the way, but it registered that he couldn't hear Harry's heavy footsteps echoing behind him.

'Are you coming or what?' said Ron, turning back around.

'Harry has to stay here,' Tonks said.

_This is it_, Ron thought. This was the moment he'd always known would come. But in the past, he'd always been able to seek comfort by assuring himself that it wouldn't come to this for quite some time. And now it was happening. There was no _later _anymore. There was only this. Only now.

'What?' Hermione cried. 'No. Harry …'

'C'mon,' said Ron, putting his hand on her shoulder. He didn't look at Harry because he didn't think he would be able to leave if he did. 'We've got to go.'

'_No_,' Hermione said again. 'You have to come with us! You can't _stay _here!'

'Don't do this, Hermione,' Harry said. 'Please.' The sound of his voice was enough to make Ron's bottom lip tremble just a tiny bit.

'We're not going to let anything happen to him,' Tonks promised. But it wasn't her promise to make. And in all honesty, there wasn't a Death Eater in the bunch that would have any qualms about going through Tonks to get to Harry.

Hermione was in his arms then, and the pained look on Harry's face as he hugged her nearly made Ron lose it. This couldn't be happening _now_. They needed more time. Even just a few more minutes. Ron just needed to get his head straight so he could figure out what he was supposed to do and then do it as best as he could.

They'd spent the last year – hell, the last seven years – talking about Voldemort and the fight. So why did Ron feel like they'd left so many things unsaid?

Were they overreacting? Or was it even possible for Ron to overreact when his best friend in the world, a person who was merely just an extension of his own self, had to go off and face impossible danger alone?

When Hermione let go of Harry, Ron nearly charged forward to embrace his friend. He knew that he and Hermione were probably doing nothing to calm Harry just then, but he also knew that he would never be able to forgive himself if something happened and he hadn't at least begun to say goodbye first.

'I'll see you when this is over,' Harry said to them, and Ron had never heard him sound so determined. 'And this – er, I mean, if I'm wrong and – well, you know – then you should know that I would be nowhere if it wasn't for you. And even if I – if we – whatever – I still wouldn't want to change anything.'

Looking at Harry and Hermione now – remembering seven years of laughs and friendship, of harsh words and hurt feelings, and of fights both alongside and against each other – Ron could honestly say that he wouldn't have changed a thing either.

……………………………………………………………

'We've got a team about to go out to Hogsmeade to head them off, but it might be too late,' Lupin said. He spoke loudly, his voice booming and only a little shaky, and yet Ginny could hardly hear him over her own thoughts.

This was it. She could feel it. And looking around, she knew that she wasn't the only one. Her mother's hands shook as they reached out for her father. Neither twin was even contemplating making a joke. And Charlie looked – well, Charlie looked ready for an all-out fight to the finish.

Bill held onto Fleur just as Ron held onto Hermione. Her mother was gripping her father's hand so tight that Arthur was wincing. Fred had Angelina and George was with Alicia. Charlie sure seemed to have Cassi.

But Ginny was alone, because Harry was still at Hogwarts. He was still in the middle of all the danger. It wasn't fair that everyone but her got to be on the same level as the person they loved. It wasn't fair that Harry's role in this whole thing was the most important. And it certainly wasn't fair that no matter what Ginny did, Harry was going to get himself killed or close to it because he was just too damn noble and heroic to stand by and let anyone fight this battle for him.

She tried to get Harry to lower his wall, but he clearly had too much to deal with and didn't have time to talk to her. That was what she chose to believe, at least. She couldn't handle thinking about any of the other reasons as to why he wouldn't be able to communicate with her just then.

It had occurred to her some weeks ago that their connection could potentially be used for more than just sharing thoughts. If their minds were open to one another and one of them was hurt, would the other feel it? Ginny thought so. Harry hadn't been so quick to agree, but she was still nearly certain. She'd felt an awful jolt of pain when he'd been injured getting that Horcrux, hadn't she?

But there'd been no way to test it. They certainly weren't going to hex each other. The only people who knew about their situation were Ron and Hermione, and Ginny knew that neither of them would've been incredibly supportive of the idea either.

And what if one of them had died? Would the other one feel it? Or would their minds just close off to one another, the way it had before?

She was going to have to be very careful about everything now. If her theory was right, her safety was far more important than it ever was in the past. Sharing something like pain would only benefit them if it was Ginny sharing Harry's pain, and not the other way around. She had to make sure she didn't do anything stupid that would put her in a situation where she could potentially jeopardize Harry's health and abilities.

That was another factor too, wasn't it? Harry's wandless magic was going to take up a ton of his energy. Every time he'd ever performed any of it in the past, he'd always been left feeling drained. If he could somehow use their connection to draw energy from her, he could be that much more powerful. Wasn't it at least worth a try?

She couldn't do this. She couldn't sit here and listen to everyone outline their plans while Harry was _out there_ without anyone to make sure he was safe. They needed to get to wherever the fighting was so she could help him. Who cared if they all knew exactly what they were doing or not? Ginny rarely felt like she had any idea at all of what was happening and what was still going to happen, and she knew that she wasn't the only one. She looked around at everyone. She hadn't seen so many people looking so absolutely out of their element since … since she was standing in a group of new students on her first day of Hogwarts.

And though less extreme, her first day at Hogwarts had been remarkably similar to this moment. She'd been surrounded by so many of her brothers, but she'd been so horribly alone just the same. And even though people had been in her exact position before, and had been in _worse_ positions before, it was as though nobody had ever or would ever again know the terror she felt in her heart in the moments before the Sorting Hat sent her to Gryffindor.

She felt that same fear now. For as scary as that moment had been for an eleven-year-old girl with everything to prove to her brothers, this moment was all that and more for the girl with everything to prove to both Harry _and _herself.

Ginny's thoughts were interrupted when Tonks began speaking. When had she gotten there? Ginny studied her, and surely shad never seen anyone look so distressed in her life.

'There are more of them than we could've imagined. We need absolutely everyone in on this. Not just Order members. Get in contact with anyone who has proven themselves trustworthy and is willing to help.'

'What's going on?' she yelled, but it was drowned out by the other frantic voices in the room as everyone scrambled off to recruit outside help.

Finally, Hermione answered her. 'They – they've taken Hogwarts.'

Ginny fought for her breath. 'We've got to start owling people then,' she said. The room was filled with people who towered over her, and she could hardly find her way out of the crowd.

'Like who?' said Ron, coming up behind her. 'We don't have any contacts.'

'Luna and Neville,' Ginny said quickly. 'Colin and Dennis would come if we asked them … and Dean will help too of course … and maybe even Lavender if you write her nicely, Ron. Hermione, you can get Krum and probably McLaggen if you try. It wouldn't hurt to write the Patil twins, either. I bet Demelza and the rest of the Quidditch team would show up … I'll ask Michael Corner, too … I think I know a few Hufflepuffs who would at least consider … and d'you think Cho would be willing to get her friends together and help?'

She was not sure if any of these sentences were said aloud or not. All she knew was that she needed to find a way to get in contact with as many people as she could. And she had to figure out how to express that their help was desperately needed while downplaying the fact that most of them would be completely out of their element when faced with this much danger.

'How're any of them going to help?' said Ron dismissively. 'They're not ready for this.'

'Neither are we,' said Hermione. 'Perhaps we _should _–'

'There's a difference between us and them,' Ron argued. 'They'll be killed.'

'And?' said Ginny.

'_And_?' Ron repeated. 'What the hell d'you mean?'

'Maybe Ron's right,' said Hermione, casting a worried look at Ginny.

'There's no screening process here,' cried Ginny. 'We're not looking for the next great warrior. We're looking for anybody who can get between the Death Eaters and Harry. So even if I have to owl all of them myself, I will. As long as Harry's alive when this is over – even if it means I'm responsible for killing off half of your year _and_ mine – I'm not going to feel bad about anything done here today.'

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, and she could nearly read their thoughts as if they were her own. _Has it really come to this_?

And as Ginny raced to The Burrow and rounded up all the owls they had at their disposal, she reassured herself that it had indeed come to this.

……………………………………………………………

'They're through!' someone yelled. Harry couldn't even begin to focus on who it was.

Tonks went to go update everyone at Headquarters, leaving him in Dumbledore's office with the instructions to _stay here and stay out of trouble_.

Looking through the window at the mass of black robes that were rushing toward the school, Harry doubted very much that he would be able to do either of the things Tonks had told him to do.

When Death Eaters had attacked Hogwarts last time, Harry hadn't been there. He and Dumbledore had been off on a pointless Horcrux mission. This time around, things were going to be different. Dumbledore would have to sit this out, but Harry certainly wasn't going to. He was going to defend his school the way he would defend … well, actually, the only other thing Harry _had _was Headquarters, but that held very little sentimental value to him. And The Burrow was like his home, and he loved it, but it wasn't his. The Weasleys owned it and they were just nice enough to let him act like he belonged there.

But Hogwarts was _his_. It belonged, at least in a tiny way, to everyone who went there. The only difference was that most of the other students and teachers had other places to call home, and Harry did not. It occurred to him that he may never have another place to defend. The others would grow up and have houses of their own someday – but Harry would perhaps never get that opportunity. If he died now, he would never know the pride of having something that was entirely his. Hogwarts was as close as he would ever come, and the idea of Death Eaters trying to take this from him made him angrier than he could've expected.

He kept watching through the window for as long as he could bear. He thought back to something McGonagall had said to him when he was about to attempt the Wandering Spell to rescue Ginny, about how there were other, more expendable people, to do the dirty work instead.

Harry had hated her in that moment, but at the same time, he had understood what she was trying to say. The same was true for now. There were two choices – he could hide and stay safe until the time was right, so he could finish Voldemort for good; or he could go out there and fight with everyone else, and maybe get seriously injured or captured or a million other things, all of which would ruin their chances at winning, but at least he wouldn't be sitting on his hands.

He looked down at the grounds and saw a group of Aurors trying to keep the Death Eaters from getting inside the school. He spotted Kingsley right away and also recognized several others whose names he'd never gotten the chance to learn. Why did they have to put their lives on the line to keep him safe?

Harry realized that he had obligations. He had to do everything he could to kill Voldemort. That was his only job, and everyone else's jobs were centered on keeping him alive long enough to complete it.

But these people were his friends. They were all skilled witches and wizards. Most importantly, they were wonderful people. He'd gone on Order missions with them and fought alongside them. How could he just sit back and watch them fight a losing battle? Wasn't he also obligated to _help _them?

Dumbledore wasn't in his portrait. He was probably at Headquarters, trying to organize everything. Half of the other portraits were missing, and the ones who remained were demanding that Harry tell them everything he knew. The trouble was that Harry didn't know a bloody thing. He wished someone would come for him soon, whether it be Dumbledore or Tonks or even a rude git like Charlie.

He alternated between staying glued to the window and pacing the room in frustration. He could almost _hear _his heart pounding. His fingertips itched the way they did quite often as of late, almost as if there was an enormous buildup of excess magic just waiting to be used. He knew that his wandless magic was going to be an important part of his fight. But he'd never fully exerted himself, either on missions or in training, for fear that something would come up and he wouldn't be able to recover in time. Really, he had no idea what he was capable of. It was frightening to think that he could maybe do a million and one amazing things with this skill and that he didn't even know it. And on the other hand, it was frightening to think that he was relying quite a bit on his wandless magic and that it might not even come through for him in the way he'd need it to.

What if he was just kidding himself? Could he really do this?

Of course he couldn't. He was going up against one of the most powerful wizards of all time. How could he even _think _he could do this?

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window. His mind was a dangerous place. Either Voldemort was invading it or he was letting his own paranoid thoughts get the best of him. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He could do this. He _would _do this. Too much was riding on this for him to fail. He wouldn't let himself fail.

'Harry.'

Harry turned and saw that Dumbledore had returned to his portrait.

'Sir,' said Harry. 'Were you at Headquarters? What's going on?'

Dumbledore merely smiled. 'Actually, Harry, I have just come from my other portrait. There were a few issues that I needed to sort out there.'

'You have another portrait, sir?' Harry asked. He remembered Dumbledore mentioning something about this once, but he hadn't found anything significant about it then and he certainly didn't understand why Dumbledore would go there now when _this _was going on at Hogwarts.

'Why, yes,' said Dumbledore. 'At Spinner's End.'

Tonks came back at that moment and relieved Harry from his conversation with Dumbledore. 'Come on,' she said. 'We've got more people coming to help, but the Death Eaters are inside and we can't risk you staying here any longer.'

……………………………………………………………

'Ginny?'

Ron spun around at the sound of someone calling his sister from the other room.

Ginny jumped up from the kitchen table, where she and Hermione had been frantically writing letter after letter to friends asking for their help.

Ron's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when a frazzled-looking Neville Longbottom entered the Weasley kitchen.

'Neville!' Ginny cried. 'You came!'

'Of course we did,' he said.

'We?' said Hermione.

Ron's eyes left Neville and went to the second figure entering the kitchen.

'Hello,' said Luna Lovegood, sounding surprised, as though they'd all just walked into her house and not the other way around.

'An owl came with Ginny's letter, so I Floo'd to Luna's and got her too before coming,' explained Neville. 'Is anyone else here?'

Ron shook his head. 'You're the first ones,' he said, but what he meant was _you're the only ones_. Truthfully, he would be shocked if anyone else showed up. Luna and Neville had already proven several times that they were dedicated to helping in any way that they could, and so although he was pleased that they'd come, he wasn't overly surprised. But the others had long since given up on the DA, and surely they had better things to do today than get themselves killed in a battle.

'Hopefully we'll hear from some of the others soon,' Hermione added, sounding more hopeful than Ron would've expected. He looked at her sideways. Did she really believe that anyone else would volunteer to help?

They were all Gryffindors, sure, but that didn't mean any of them were going to venture out of their safety zones to come fight to the death because they were asked by a couple of their schoolmates. What did these letters even say? _Sorry we haven't been in touch in close to a year, and even though we weren't horribly close back at school, d'you think you'd be able to help me out by coming to risk your life in the Final Battle against Voldemort_?

This wasn't like asking to borrow a piece of parchment or to copy someone's Astronomy homework. And Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry hadn't been in touch with virtually anyone, especially in the last few months. If the situation was reversed, and someone like the Patil twins were writing to Ron and asking for him to enter into this much danger for _them_, would he go?

Of course he'd go. But only because he'd grown up with stupid, noble Harry, and somewhere along the way a lot of the traits that often got Harry into trouble had rubbed off on him.

'That's an interesting clock,' said Luna airily, looking around the kitchen. 'And where's Harry?'

Ron closed his eyes. He wished he knew the answer to Luna's question. At the moment, he didn't know anything. He didn't know if Harry was even still … _alive_. He forced himself not to think about it, if only because Ginny and Hermione couldn't know how worried he was. He had to be strong for them. If he didn't keep things together, who would?

But when he looked at the girls, they both seemed far more composed than he felt. They looked determined. _Ready for war_, Ron thought. Who would've guessed that when it came down to it, Hermione and Ginny would be the fierce warriors while Ron was the one worrying about everything?

'I'll be back,' said Ron. He went upstairs before anyone could say anything to stop him. He sat down on his bed and looked around the bedroom he'd shared with Harry for so many summers now. _Get it together_, he told himself. He closed his eyes again and conjured up every positive image he could. These were the things he was fighting for. He wasn't afraid for himself in the least. He would do what he had to do and would not complain or think twice about it. But what about Hermione? Harry? His family? He told himself that when this day was over, everything was going to be exactly the way he remembered it, because he simply would not stand for anything less.

It was delusional. Surely he was setting himself up for a giant fall. But convincing himself that it would be okay was the only way to get him through these next crucial hours, and he _needed _to get through them. Feeling steadier than before, he went back downstairs and re-entered the kitchen.

Dean was there. And Lavender. Padma and Parvati were in quiet discussion in the corner. Colin Creevey was sitting at the table helping Ginny write more letters. Over the next several minutes, the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team arrived. The twins came back home with some of the people who were arriving at Headquarters, including Viktor Krum. Absentmindedly, Ron thought that this would be the only time that Krum would ever be welcome in his home.

In no time at all, The Burrow was filled with friends and acquaintances of all sorts, and there were still more arriving every second. The plan had been to keep as many non-Order members away from Headquarters as possible, but Ron knew that soon there would be too many people to fit in The Burrow and they'd have to move. People were going out in shifts, though Ron had no idea where they were going or what they were going to do when they got there.

It was amazing how quickly everything came together. It felt as though it took hours to get everyone settled, but at the same time, it was as though everyone was operating on a different level today. Everyone seemed to realize the severity of the situation and was, for one day only, willing to ignore egos and listen to those in charge.

'If anyone's got any lingering problems, sort them out now,' said Kingsley. 'From here on out, there's no turning back.' With that, he went back into the other room.

'Wait. Is this really – y'know – _it_?' asked Neville, shifting uncomfortably. His words tumbled out so quickly that Ron could hardly catch what he said. 'Because I – I didn't say goodbye to Gran and if I'm going to die today I should probably leave her a note or something so she'll remember to feed Trevor.'

He looked at them expectantly, and if Ron hadn't been so wrapped up in everything else going on, he would've realized that Neville was looking to be reassured. He was waiting for Ron to call him crazy, to tell him that surely they would all make it out alive and that nobody would have to leave any sort of goodbye notes to their loved ones.

Instead, Ron said nothing. Not even after Ginny looked up and said, point-blank, 'There's parchment on the table. I think you should probably write that note.'

……………………………………………………………

**If you promise not to give up on this story, I promise to do the same. The second part will be out eventually, but I make no promises as to when. **

**Review. I'd like to get this to 3000 before the end. **


	52. The End

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**I decided the only way this was going to get written would be if I skipped right into the fighting. Use your imagination to figure out how everyone got from the end of the last chapter to the beginning of this one. Writing fight scenes and the like has never been a particular strong point of mine and it kind of bums me out that the last official chapter of this is going to be purely fighting and thus not my best work. But whatever. I'm just glad I managed to finish it.**

**There's still a short epilogue which I absolutely swear will be out before Deathly Hallows.**

**Chapter Fifty-Two: The End  
**……………………………………………………………

Hermione couldn't even move without the risk of stepping into the path of a hex intended for someone else. This was more than insane. So far, every time she was in a situation involving Death Eaters or anything even remotely related to Voldemort, it had always been more intense than the last time. But this far surpassed anything she'd ever experienced before. And she knew – she _hoped_ – that she would never be in a situation like this ever again.

'_Crucio_!'

She dove behind a statue for protection and winced when it shattered once hit with the curse. As she ran, her sleeve caught on another and ripped, but then that statue was blown up as well, and so she didn't stop. Her first thought was how terrible it was that Hogwarts was being destroyed. Her second thought was that she'd just ripped a very nice article of clothing. And her third thought was that neither of those things should matter to her at this moment.

This was the Final Battle. She was supposed to be on her mark. She was supposed to be thinking like a warrior. But she wasn't. Why had she expected to walk into this fight ready to go with hardly any preparation? She should've trained more. She should've read up on more spells. Merlin, what _had _she done since school let out last year?

She heard a yell that she could've sworn belonged to Ron. Time seemed to slow down as she rushed down the corridor to find him.

'Hermione – look out!' someone called. She stopped and turned just in time.

'_Avada_ –'

'_Stupefy_!' she cried, only _just _in time. She turned to Lavender. 'Thanks.'

Lavender's eyes were wide. Hermione followed her gaze and gulped. At least a dozen Death Eaters had turned down their corridor and were headed toward them. There was no way they could take on that many Death Eaters on their own!

'Come on,' Hermione said, grabbing Lavender's wrist and running the opposite direction. She didn't know where she was going. She didn't even know where she was. She couldn't get her mind to focus on anything other than where her friends were and whether or not everyone she loved was still all right.

Lavender took over at some point, and pretty soon Hermione was being pulled into a dark corridor that she'd never seen before. _She's probably snogged a million different boys in this spot_, mused Hermione. But she remembered that Lavender had just saved her life, and so she felt guilty for her thoughts.

Lavender sunk to the floor and clutched her ankle, wincing in pain. 'They're _everywhere_,' she said in barely a whisper. 'There's – there are so many of them!'

Hermione took a few steadying breaths and gripped her wand. 'And more and more are arriving,' she said quickly. 'That's why we've got to get back out there – to get rid of as many as we can before it starts getting out of control.'

'You don't consider _that _to be out of control?' Lavender squealed. She covered her eyes with her hands. 'Aren't you _scared_?'

Of course Hermione was scared. She was scared that while she was here taking a nice break, Ron was out there taking on three Death Eaters at once. She was scared that Ginny was cornered and wandless, or that Harry wasn't looking out for himself because he was trying to do right by everyone else.

'Terrified,' Hermione admitted, though she didn't feel as though she feared the same things Lavender did. 'Who wouldn't be?'

Lavender shifted and cried out. 'Oh … I think I've really hurt my ankle.'

Hermione knelt down beside her. 'I know a couple Healing spells. Can I try one?'

'Try as many as you have to,' said Lavender. She sounded so worried and so grateful to have Hermione's help that Hermione could almost forget every nasty thing they'd ever said about each other.

Hermione performed one spell and Lavender said it felt as though it worked, but she spoke through gritted teeth, and Hermione knew that she was just trying to be hopeful. She went through three more spells before Lavender sighed in relief and announced that the pain had _really _dissipated then.

'Thank you,' she said, getting to her feet again. She looked Hermione in the eyes, and it was clear that she knew it was time to leave the safety of their abandoned corridor and re-join the fight. 'Now's probably not the time,' she whispered, 'but I – I hardly remember _any _of my DA training right now.'

'Then keep your wand out and stick close,' said Hermione as they began walking.

Lavender let out a half cough, half laugh. 'To _you_?' she said, though without any malice. 'You had a pretty close call back there yourself, you know.'

'I suppose I did,' said Hermione. 'Thank you for that.'

'Can I ask – I mean, were you running anywhere particular? You looked kind of …'

Hermione shrugged and kept looking straight ahead. 'I thought I maybe heard Ron. I wanted to make sure he was all right.'

'You nearly got yourself killed, though.' Perhaps it was just Hermione's imagination, but Lavender's voice seemed to change.

She looked over her shoulder at the other girl. 'Yeah, so?' she asked sincerely.

Lavender blushed. 'Do you think Parvati and Padma are okay?' she asked, changing the subject. 'We tried to stick together but it was impossible, so … I was just wondering what you thought about their chances …'

'They should be okay for a while, I suppose, if they remember their DA training,' said Hermione. She couldn't promise anything to Lavender, and she didn't have a right to pretend that anyone was guaranteed to live past tonight. Truth be told, when it came to getting people to fight in the Final Battle, the Patil twins probably weren't the best candidates for the job.

'You think so?' continued Lavender. She had moved up to walk beside Hermione now, and her voice was just loud enough to echo. 'Because I've been staying with them for a little while and when your letter came, Padma wanted to come help but Parvati wasn't so sure … I was kind of the tie breaker vote and so if anything happens to Parvati, it's going to be my fault because I made her come …'

'You didn't _make _anyone do anything,' Hermione reassured her, though if she was honest, she didn't really care very much about Lavender's guilty conscience. 'Parvati was perfectly capable of deciding on her own if she wanted to come or not.'

'Padma's her sister and I've been her best friend since first year,' said Lavender. She shook her head. 'Her choice was to help us fight or sit back and cross her fingers that we didn't die. If anyone knows what it's like to be a package deal, I would've figured it'd be you.'

Hermione cast a sideways glance at Lavender. She knew she should cover up the surprised expression on her face, but she couldn't manage it. They had shared a dormitory room for six years at Hogwarts, but this was the first moment in which Hermione could actually see just how much they had in common after all.

……………………………………………………………

If someone had asked a twelve-year-old Molly Prewett what she saw when she envisioned her future, she would've said that she was going to be a widely-successful Healer when she grew up. She was going to treat very important and powerful people, like the Minister of Magic, because they would demand the very best care and she would deliver just that.

The last thing she'd imagined, at the tender age of twelve, was that she would elope straight out of Hogwarts and have her first of seven children immediately after, and then spend the next thirty or so years of her life being a full-time mother and housewife.

She had planned many things, but she had not planned on Arthur Weasley. And she had not spent a single night of her childhood lying in bed, trying to think up good names for the seven children she was going to have someday. She'd wanted two at _most_, not that she'd really allowed it to factor into her plans most of the time.

When Voldemort began his rise to power, Molly was one of the many students in her year who wanted to do something about it. When Arthur told her about a new organization called _Order of the Phoenix_, Molly had jumped at the chance to join. She was suddenly very excited at the prospect of fighting in this war, possibly even helping out as a Healer. And the time she spent fighting for the Order was truly amazing. But then Bill had come along and she'd taken a backseat role, because she was a mother and who would take care of her baby if something happened to her?

One baby turned into three, and then the twins came along, and by then Molly loved being a mother so much that it was only logical to have a few more. Molly Weasley was not the witch she'd intended to be. But was that such a terrible thing? Sure, her dedication to her family meant that over the years she hadn't been able to help the Order as much as she'd liked, but she certainly thought it was worth it. And she'd raised seven incredibly strong children, each a warrior in his or her own right, who were more than ready to join this fight.

Reflecting on her old way of thinking, it was almost as though Molly was remembering the characteristics of a close childhood friend instead of herself. She could not imagine not having a single one of her kids. Even Harry and Hermione. She loved all nine of them more than life itself.

That was what made this day so frightening. They'd all been in dangerous situations before – what else was to be expected with Charlie working with those bloody dragons and the countless situations Bill got himself into? – but nothing they'd been through could even compare to today.

They were capable and strong, but she was their mother, and so she was allowed to be unimaginably worried for all of them. Especially Ron, Harry and Hermione. They'd grown up so fast and now faced so much responsibility. They fully accepted those responsibilities and handled everything so gracefully … how could she not be proud of them, above all else?

When had they stopped being eleven? There were times that she heard Ron's footsteps on the stairs, and in the instant before he entered the kitchen, she was half-expecting to see the boy he'd been seven years ago.

And Harry – she could not comprehend the danger he was in. She didn't even believe that Harry fully understood his role in this.

She scanned the area, hoping to catch sight of any of her children. She was especially desperate to know what was happening with Harry. She hadn't even gotten a moment with him before all of this began, the way she had with the others. Where was he? What if he was with Voldemort _right now_? And what if something happened to either of them and she never got to say a proper goodbye?

'_Avada Kedavra_!'

She heard the curse and couldn't help but turn. She had to make sure it wasn't one of her children. When she found the victim, she gasped. Wasn't that …? Oh, it _was_. The boy Ginny had dated just before Harry. She paused and closed her eyes for a moment, but then had to keep moving.

_Merlin, help his poor mother_._  
_

……………………………………………………………

Harry waited until Tonks turned her back for an instant, and then he made a break for it. Someone had brought his Invisibility Cloak to Hogwarts for him, and so he kept it wrapped around himself as he ran through the corridors. He had to find Ginny so he could give it to her. He considered lowering his wall, as he was so used to doing by now, but then he considered just how much trouble that could get her into if he was suddenly ambushed and attacked. What if Ginny's theory was right and they could use their connection to spread the pain out between the two of them? He couldn't stand the thought of her feeling even an ounce of pain because of him.

He ended up outside, though he'd never understand how he made it through the entire castle without getting hit by a stray spell. How long had this fight been going on for? There were bodies _everywhere_. How many of them were dead? How many more would die before this was over?

He had to find Ginny to make sure she wasn't one of those unlucky people. And he had to find _Voldemort_. How was he going to manage that?

Once the final Horcrux had been destroyed, he'd felt relieved because this fight was finally approaching its conclusion and he held all the cards. But this was not how he'd expected the Final Battle to go. He hadn't imagined that he'd be wandering around, firing spells out from under his Invisibility Cloak, having no bloody idea where he should be. It was becoming clear to him that Voldemort was going to set a trap, and the only way for Harry to find his enemy would be to allow himself to fall into it. But could he really do that?

His mind hit a standstill when he thought he saw a flash of red hair. His eyes scanned the crowd, hoping to see Ginny, but he couldn't locate the person he'd spotted mere moments before.

And now his mind was really playing tricks on him, because he could've sworn he'd just spotted Snape out of the corner of his eye.

He did a double take, forgetting that Snape had been reported dead ages ago and it was therefore impossible for him to be running around the grounds. But no – that was _Snape_. It had to be. Whether it was the real Snape or a Polyjuiced version, Harry didn't know. What he _did _know was that he couldn't take the chance.

He thought back to what Ginny had told him about Snape. If what she said was true – and of course it was, because Ginny wouldn't make something like that up – then Snape had been on the good side all this time. And although Harry wanted to believe that his former professor was nothing more than a backstabbing traitor who murdered Dumbledore, he had to admit to himself that it just didn't add up. Why would Snape have saved his life in Hogsmeade if he was unquestionably loyal to a wizard whose main goal in life was to _kill Harry Potter_?

It occurred to Harry that each and every one of Snape's actions leading up to this point could have been a carefully-constructed plan, all design to lure Harry into a trap at this very moment. But was Snape really that smart or that dedicated? Was _anyone_ – other than maybe Hermione?

What about the _Daily Prophet_'s claim that Snape had been killed months ago? Why would they publish that if it wasn't true? Though, it wasn't as though the _Daily Prophet _was above printing false stories, especially when Harry was concerned … But was Snape really worth all that trouble? Unless someone had hooked the _Prophet _up with a false story, knowing that it would make the front page and that Harry would see it. But again, wasn't that a lot of effort for a plan that might not have even worked?

The article had said that Bellatrix Lestrange was the one who killed Snape. If he remembered correctly though, hadn't the article also said that Snape was _found _tortured and killed? So how would the reporter know who'd done it if they'd only been around for the aftermath? Unless the reporter was on the inside with Death Eaters. But how likely was that?

Why had he waited until now to analyze this? The more Harry thought about this, the more convinced he was that the story had been completely concocted by a desperate reporter to sell more newspapers.

Did it matter though? If Snape was alive and here right now, Harry had to go after him. He had to do _something_. The idea of making Snape pay was so appealing, but if Ginny had been right all along … then Harry would be punishing Snape for no reason at all. But was there really _no_ reason? Regardless of whether he was truly a dark wizard or not, Snape had still sold out his parents. He had still killed Dumbledore, regardless of the hidden, possibly even logical reason. Wasn't it Harry's duty to avenge them?

Harry whipped off his Invisibility Cloak and Snape, spotting him, took off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Harry followed after him. Snape had gotten away last year, but he wouldn't get off as easy this time around.

He gritted his teeth and charged forward. He was gaining on Snape as the git entered the Forbidden Forest. In his mind, he took back every complaint he'd ever made about all the laps Tonks made him run every morning during training. He felt a thrill of excitement – finally, after all this time, he was going to catch Snape and get answers to every bloody question he could think of asking.

He ran deeper and deeper into the forest, trying not to take his focus off of the outline in front of him. The trees rose up high above him, blocking out the light from the sun. Each time he thought he'd lost Snape, he would hear the telltale sound of a branch snapping underfoot, coming from somewhere in front of him, which would tell Harry that he was still on track. He ran passed all sorts of creatures but paid them no mind; he was no longer a scared first year who jumped at every little howl or strange noise. He was on a mission, and nothing was going to get in his way today.

The combination of darkness, animals and trees prohibited Harry from running at top speed, but he continued to hurry along until suddenly his wrists and ankles were clamped together and he was tumbling to the ground. He managed to keep his wand clutched tightly in his right hand, but the way his wrists were bound together with rope behind his back, he didn't think he'd be able to do very much anyway. He rolled onto his back and looked around, his eyes having long ago adjusted to the new darkness of the forest.

Snape jumped out from behind the shadows, looking as he had when it was announced that he'd be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts last year.

'Well, well …' said Snape. 'Once again, I find myself standing in front of the great Harry Potter, wondering just what exactly people find so spectacular about you. You have potential, I will give you that, but you lack the self-discipline that _must_ accompany that potential. Now look at where you are.' He scoffed. 'Following me into the middle of the Forbidden Forest, as if you were going to get the best of me. You fell right into my trap.'

'Ginny trusted you!' Harry hissed. 'She nearly had _me _believing that you were on our side!'

'I am not on any side,' spat Snape in a hushed voice, which made Harry wonder if anyone else was around to listen to them. 'I merely want this to reach a conclusion so I can get on with my life.'

'Then why the bloody hell am I tied up?'

Snape merely smirked and crouched down beside Harry. He dug his wand into Harry's throat for emphasis. 'It's high time you earned all that fame and glory you've so shamelessly basked in for your entire life, Potter.'

Harry spat in his face. 'You good for nothing piece of –'

And then Harry heard it: the voice that had haunted his dreams every night in the summer after fourth year.

'_Harry Potter_.'

……………………………………………………………

Like every other battle Ginny had ever participated in, time seemed to fly by. She felt as though she'd been fighting for several hours. In reality, she'd only been at Hogwarts for close to two. She was beginning to realize that everything she'd imagined when thinking about how this fight would go had been far too outrageous. This battle was just that – a battle. It was on a much larger scale with much higher stakes than the Department of Mysteries or what happened the night Dumbledore died, but it was still, essentially, just a fight between Death Eaters and Order members, with Dementors and other nasty creatures thrown into the mix.

There were more Death Eaters at Hogwarts now than she'd ever thought there were in the whole entire world. But the Order had scrounged up a good number of volunteers too, and so they were fairly evenly matched.

There was so much destruction everywhere. If this kept up for very much longer, Hogwarts would be unrecognizable in the end. There had been destruction at other battles too, but nothing like this. She couldn't imagine how things would look in the end … if she was even still around to witness it.

And there was another thing that couldn't be compared to past experiences, too – bodies covered most of the ground, sometimes causing Ginny to trip over them. Whether they were dead or merely Stunned, she didn't know. She didn't _want _to know. Though, she didn't bet Death Eaters were running around using a wide selection of weak curses. She wasn't in danger of being on the receiving end of a Trip Jinx or Bat-Bogey Hex. These Death Eaters were clearly under instruction, and from what Ginny had seen so far, they were hardly using anything but Unforgivables.

The Order had clearly picked up on this and began to do the same in return. She wasn't sure if this was their game plan going in or if it was decided along the way. The idea that Aurors and other Ministry workers weren't even hesitating to use the Killing Curse was almost unimaginable. This was a kill or be killed situation if there ever was one before … but did that make it okay? And was it just okay for them to do it, or could Ginny do the same if it came down to it? _Should _she do the same if it came down to it?

She was outside now, though she couldn't remember consciously trying to make it out there. She'd merely been making her way through the castle, defending her friends and attacking her enemies, but never daring to stay in the same spot for more than a few minutes if she could help it. She navigated her way through the grounds and ducked behind a tree when she heard someone near her shout '_Crucio_!'

She heard another spell, and then there was an awful tearing sensation in the back of her left leg, followed by a harsh scream that she didn't realize was her own. She lost her footing and fell to the ground, landing nearly on top of a giant, unconscious man in Death Eater robes. She rolled onto her back, wand at the ready, but it seemed that nobody was going to come after her. She must've been hit with a stray spell. Or perhaps her attacker assumed she'd been successfully taken out with that curse. Either way, she seemed to be safe for the moment.

Trying not to panic about her injury, she twisted her body and winced at the pain that flared up in her leg. Squinting against the rain, she looked down and saw quite a bit of blood. But growing up with six aggressive, Quidditch playing brothers meant that over the years she'd learned to heal cuts and gashes of varying severity, and so she was somewhat confident that she could handle this.

She looked around. There were so many bodies everywhere. Someone was coughing and wheezing a few feet from her. She glanced over and felt her heart drop.

'_Charlie_!' she cried, gritting her teeth at the pain as she crawled her way over to him across the wet, muddy ground.

'G-Ginny,' he ground out. He didn't look good at all. In fact, he looked like he was about to — She inhaled sharply at the thought. But she had to be wrong. He _had_ to be okay. He was her brother and he wasn't allowed to die.

'What happened?' she ground out, scanning his body for any indication as to where his injury was. She could help him. She _would _help him. She just had to figure out where he'd been hurt, and then she could heal him in no time. Everything would be all right. 'Where are you hurt? I can –'

'No … 's too late … I'm –'

'Don't talk,' she said desperately. It _wasn't_ too late! She couldn't listen to him if he was going to be negative. And if she was going to save him, she couldn't waste time arguing. 'Save your strength.'

He shook his head. His eyes met hers, though it didn't seem to Ginny that they were focused in on hers the way they should be, and she knew to keep quiet and listen to what would probably be her brother's last words.

'I _love _you – I only ever wa-wanted what was b-best …'

'I know,' she whispered, tears falling from her cheeks and onto his. 'I know.'

'Will you st-stay with me?' He sounded so far away from her. She watched as his eyes slowly drifted shut.

She was lying out in the open, with curses and hexes of all kinds flying around. Staying would probably get her seriously injured, possibly even killed. But what could she do? This was Charlie. She could never leave him, especially now. If she hadn't stumbled upon him, he'd be spending these last few minutes alone … that thought absolutely tore her to pieces.

She remembered how angry she'd been with him lately, how she'd nearly stopped speaking to him on several occasions. She could recall every cutting thing she'd said to him (_I hate you for this_ was especially rough) and couldn't believe her own foolishness. He had been irritating and overbearing and rude to Harry. But he had only been trying to ensure that she was happy and safe and looked after, even though he'd taken the entirely wrong approach.

Her hand found his and she nodded, though he couldn't see. 'Of course I'll stay. I love you. _So _much.' She closed her eyes and listened to his faint breathing. When it stopped altogether, she opened her eyes and looked at him. 'Charlie?' she whispered, her free hand smoothing out the lines of his forehead.

She tried to separate the good parts of this moment from the bad ones so she could take them with her. The feeling of her brother's hand holding hers, the way it had so many times before. The way he smelled – like The Burrow at Christmastime. The redness of his hair. And the length of it. The patterns in which freckles dotted his pale skin. The firm set of his jaw. The burns on his arms and calluses on his hands – a direct result of his dangerous job. The barely-there scar over his right eye, one he'd gotten before she was even born. The tattoo on his shoulder that he got when he was seventeen, the one their mum still didn't know about.

When she had committed to memory all that she could, she let out a great sob, then leaned down and kissed his forehead. He was already so cold. 'Goodbye, Charlie.'

She stayed with him for as long as she could allow herself. After several long moments, she started to get up and was almost surprised to feel pain in her leg. She'd completely forgotten about her own injury. With a shaking hand, she held out her wand and healed herself. When she scrambled to her feet, she spotted Snape rushing away from the Forbidden Forest. Her eyes were blurry from the tears and the rain, but she was positive it was him.

It couldn't be true. Snape was supposed to be dead. Hadn't the _Daily Prophet _said …?

'Hey!' she called. Her throat felt dry and cracked. She called again and took off toward him, so focused on catching up to him that she didn't even think to keep an eye out for curses being thrown her way. 'Wait! _Snape_!'

'What do you _want_?' he growled when she caught up to him.

'You – you're alive,' she said breathlessly. 'I thought you – I mean, the _Prophet _said –'

'Yes,' said Snape icily. 'I was rather surprised to read that headline myself.'

'H-how can you be –?'

'It seems the _Daily Prophet _will print just about anything, regardless of the validity of the report, just to sell more issues. Why do you think they're always going on about what a hero your little boyfriend is?'

She frowned. 'Speaking of Harry –' she panted. 'Where is he?'

'I don't know,' said Snape. 'Nor do I care.'

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. 'Liar,' she said. 'Where _is _he?' Snape said nothing, but his eyes darted toward the forest. 'Is he – he's in _there_?'

'Don't be silly.'

'You –' she began, but her voice died out. She turned away from him and took a hesitant step toward where she was nearly positive Harry was.

She would go to Harry even if he _was _in a deathtrap like the Forbidden Forest. But what if he wasn't actually in there? What if Snape was lying to her? Though hard to believe, she had absolutely no reason not to trust Severus Snape. Still, this was the Final Battle. There were different playing rules for today. She could never be sure about Snape, and while the risks had been worth it in the past, this was the final straw and she couldn't afford to make a giant error in judgment. Now was not the time to do something incredibly foolish … and rushing off into the forest surely was just that.

'Think about what you are about to do,' Snape said slowly, rationally. She tried not to listen to him. He sounded somewhat _concerned _for her … but she knew that he was a master manipulator. This could be a trap. It could all be a trap.

She considered what would happen if Harry was truly in there and she didn't go after him. She didn't think she could live with herself after this if she knew she hadn't tried her best to get to him.

'I'm going,' she told Snape.

'You'll never find him,' said Snape grimly.

'You're wrong.'

'You'll die in there,' he said. Was he trying to keep her out of there so she couldn't help Harry? Or was he saying these things because he respected her and perhaps genuinely didn't want her to die? She was insane for trusting him to do the right thing. Wasn't she?

'I might just surprise you.'

'Even if you do manage to survive long enough to find him, you will only find his body.'

'You don't know that.' She began to walk away.

'Potter's finished,' he called after her. 'If you go after him, you'll end up meeting the same fate. Perhaps an even worse fate.'

'We'll see,' she said, but she was far enough away that she doubted he heard her. She cast a final glance over her shoulder at him, and she didn't know it then, but it would be the last time she ever saw him alive. 'Bye, Snape.'

……………………………………………………………

'Dad!' yelled Ron.

Mr Weasley turned just in time. A second later and –

Ron couldn't think about it now.

'_Stupefy_!'

'_Rennervate_!'

'_Cruc_—'

'_Protego_!'

'_Incarcerous_!'

'_Reduc—_'

'_Petrificus Totalus_!'

The spells were everywhere. He didn't even know who he was fighting most of the time. For all he knew, some of his curses were hitting members of his own side. But he couldn't even find the time to care. Everything was so rushed. He didn't even know if any of his spells were effective – he was just throwing them out there and moving onto the next person.

He heard one witch yell out a spell just as clearly as he heard everyone else call out their own hexes. But her voice was embedded in his brain by now, and the sound cut through him like glass.

_Lestrange_.

He turned and trained his wand on her. She was smirking at him, that bloody awful cow. He wanted to wipe that look off her face. He wanted to make her pay for everything she'd done. She was the one who took him away from his family. She was the one responsible for Sirius going through the veil. She had caused unbelievable amounts of grief to everyone he loved so much.

The words were only half out of his mouth when Lestrange crumbled to the ground, screaming in absolute anguish. He saw Neville on the other side of her, glaring down with the coldest eyes he'd ever seen. He stood there gaping for a moment.

'This one is mine,' Neville said.

Ron couldn't argue with that, especially not when he looked up and spotted another familiar face – someone else with whom he had unfinished business.

At a time like this, it was hard to feel anything other than that of sheer panic mixed with the ultimate rush of adrenaline. But an entirely different feeling swept over him when he set his sights on Dolohov. He remembered that night two years ago at the Department of Mysteries, and though he hadn't been present at the exact moment of the Death Eater hurting Hermione, he could still visualize Hermione in that hospital bed, weak and vulnerable.

He went after Dolohov, and he had the wanker on the ground in a matter of seconds. And then he said _those_ words, the ones he'd heard echoing in his head a million times but had never dared attempt to say until now.

As he stood there, trying to deal with the aftermath of what had just occurred, he was struck square in the chest.

……………………………………………………………

The voice echoed in Harry's ears, and the wizard behind the voice revealed himself. The man who had once been Tom Riddle stepped toward Harry. The long fingers of his pale hand were wrapped protectively around his wand. His face was twisted into a ferocious grin as he stared down at Harry with his dark red eyes.

'Here we are again,' Lord Voldemort hissed.

Their eyes locked and Harry stayed there, frozen in a sort of stupor.

'Three years ago, I had you in a position rather similar to the one we are in now,' he continued. Each word sent a chill down Harry's spine. 'You made out far better than I had anticipated. I blame myself, really. You see, Harry, it is very difficult to lose all of your power for fourteen years and retain even a small amount of dedicated followers. I, however, somehow managed to recruit even more in my absence.'

Harry didn't want to hear any of this. But the longer Voldemort went on, the more time Harry had to come up with an escape plan. It was hard to make his mind work when Voldemort's wand was pointing right at him. He had trained so hard for this moment, and he now realized that no amount of mental or physical training could have ever prepared him for this.

This showdown was far different than the others. This was the end of everything. In every other instance, Harry's goal had been to escape before being killed. And he'd always succeeded, though just barely. But this time, his only means of escaping was to kill Voldemort before Voldemort killed him.

'But I would have been a fool not to realize that there were some doubters among my Death Eaters,' Voldemort continued. 'I could have very easily killed you while you were tied up like a dog. But defeating you in a duel would have shown that I was still superior – that the boy everyone claimed had vanquished me forever was, as I said, merely _a_ _boy_.'

Harry tugged at the ropes that bound his arms. He could hardly move his hands, especially with his wand clutched tightly in his right one. But what was he supposed to do – just let go of his wand? That would be suicide. He'd never be able to find it in that darkness, and even if it wasn't pitch black, he couldn't exactly ask Voldemort for a time out so he could go pick it up.

'I allowed my pride and the expectations of others to get in the way of my goal. Because of that, you escaped.' He turned back to Harry and he gestured to their surroundings. 'As you can see, Harry, there is no one else here with us today. And so after I get rid of you, I can tell the story any way I want to. The world will only know that you begged me to put you out of your misery and that I mercifully granted your request. I wonder what your beloved Weasley family will do.'

'They'll never have to go through that,' said Harry. 'You're not going to get the best of me.'

'On the contrary,' said Voldemort, waving a hand out and gesturing to Harry's current state. 'I believe I already have.'

And for the first time in a long time, Harry felt the overwhelming panic of uncertainty. He didn't want to die. He couldn't. He shouldn't have to. He was only _seventeen_, for Merlin's sake. He'd barely lived at _all_. If he died now, he would die having known great friends and true love. But did that mean he'd had enough? Did that mean he didn't deserve more?

He deserved _so _much more. Everyone did. Harry was fighting so everyone else could have the chance to live again. But why couldn't he fight for himself too? Why had he been so hung up on saving the others that he had never allowed the hope of saving _himself_?

He wanted to live. More than anything else in the world, he wanted to live. With Ginny and Hermione and the Weasleys. He wanted one more year at Hogwarts and another Christmas at The Burrow. He wanted another Quidditch game. Another Chocolate Frog.

He had to focus. He had to get his hands free. But how? His wand was at an impossible angle, and he needed his wand to –

The thought hit him like a ton of bricks: _he didn't need his wand at all_,_ for anything_.

He cleared his mind. He blocked out everything Voldemort was saying. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and repeated the words of the spell over and over in his mind. It didn't work, not the first time or the second time or even the third. He was beginning to worry that it was utterly hopeless when –

He felt the pressure against his wrists and ankles disappear. He didn't dare risk a glance down at his legs, for fear that Voldemort's gaze would follow and it would be discovered that Harry had freed himself. But even without looking, he knew that the ropes were gone.

Regardless of how accomplished he felt by merely doing that correctly, he realized that the hard part was far from over. He needed to fight. He needed to _actually_ fight. Simply throwing his wand out, yelling _Expelliarmus_, and hoping for the best wasn't going to cut it this time.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry, and it was as if everything in the world melted away, leaving nothing but this moment and the few crucial ones that would follow. Harry's hands sprung from behind his back just as Voldemort began, '_Av_—'

Harry yelled out the first spell he could think of. Arrows shot out from the tip of his wand and Voldemort, clearly not anticipating that Harry would be able to defend himself, did not have enough time to react. One of the arrows managed to puncture Voldemort's arm, but the wizard gave no indication of his injury.

'Interesting trick,' Voldemort said easily. 'Fight all you would like, Harry … I assure you, this is the final hour and you cannot win.'

Harry held out his hand. It was one hell of a lot harder doing this sort of spell with his eyes open but he didn't dare shut them now the way he did during practice with Ron. The pressure built, traveling down his arm and into the palm of his hand.

'_Crucio_!' Voldemort yelled, but a small silver orb shot out of Harry's left hand and headed straight for Voldemort, meeting the curse somewhere between the two wizards and causing it to dissolve into the air. The orb continued on and caught Voldemort in the stomach, sending him backward into one of the many surrounding trees.

Voldemort disappeared into the darkness and a sound behind Harry caused him to spin around. He came face to face with his opponent once again.

'You have picked up yet another new trick, I see,' said Voldemort angrily. 'Impressive. Now allow me to show you a few of my own.'

……………………………………………………………

There were people everywhere. So many bodies were strewn across the grounds, and still, Hermione knew that there was no end in sight. The Dark Mark loomed overhead and the combination of wind and rain whipping against her face took her breath away. The Dementors had arrived some time earlier and she was surprised at how few people could conjure a proper Patronus Charm. She'd managed to apply the skills she'd learned in the DA well enough to help more than a few people protect themselves from the Dementors, but the air felt charged with so much negative energy, and she was finding it more and more difficult to come up with happy memories to use in defense against them.

Looking around at all the damage, Hermione shook with the realization that this wasn't going to end here. It couldn't. Even if Harry did kill Voldemort tonight, what about the Death Eaters who survived and fled? Surely they would want to avenge their Lord. They would want to take over and carry on with what Voldemort had been trying to accomplish.

Harry's destiny was to defeat Voldemort, and lucky for the world, Harry was not the type of man who could ignore his destiny. But what about the Death Eaters? Who would be responsible for rounding them up and making them pay for what they'd done? Would it be the Aurors, or would Harry take it upon himself again? If he did, surely Ron would want to help, and she wouldn't be able to sit back and let the two of them do it alone. How long would it take before the world would be completely safe again? How long would it be before grown witches and wizards could stop looking over their shoulders every time they left their houses? Her heart sped up at the idea that this Final Battle was not the end of terror at all, but a whole new beginning.

And even once every last Death Eater had been dealt with, that wouldn't be the end. Hermione knew in her heart that there would never be true peace. There would always be Dark witches and wizards out there who would try to inflict the same amount of terror Voldemort had. There would always be witches and wizards looking to _top _what Voldemort had achieved. Whether it took ten, twenty, or even a hundred years, Hermione knew that someone would rise up and cause just as much – if not more – damage. Just as Voldemort had topped Grindewald, someone else would come along and do the same again.

She couldn't live this way for the rest of her life. She couldn't wake up each morning for the next sixty years wondering if anyone she loved would die before she went to bed that night. She was tired of Harry having to go to sleep with his wand under his pillow. She didn't want to use a special password to be allowed through the front door of The Burrow.

But for now, she pushed it out of her mind. It was easy to do, actually, considering where she was and what was going on around her.

There were all sorts of noises around her. Hermione wasn't even able to register half of them. By now, she didn't flinch when her opponents screamed in pain. She didn't jump every time there was an explosion in the distance. The words _Avada Kedavra_ didn't send chills up and down her spine.

But when she heard this sound, she _did _turn away from her fight to look.

What she saw made her stop in her tracks. The entire west end of Hogwarts had just collapsed in on itself. An enormous cloud of dust rose up around the wreckage, and Hermione felt tears sting her eyes. How could this happen to a place as peaceful as Hogwarts?

She had committed the ultimate _no _when it came to battle – she took her head out of the game, so to speak, and allowed herself to get distracted. And someone took advantage of the opportunity to attack.

She felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her left side and gasped. She staggered forward, her feet sinking into the muddy ground with each step. She tore her eyes away from what remained of her beautiful school and saw a tree a few feet away. She knew that it would be wise to get to it so that she could brace herself against it, but those few necessary steps seemed like a marathon just now. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her vision started to blur, leaving trails where Death Eaters and Order members had stood moments before. She looked around one last time. It was as if the crowd parted solely because she had willed it to, and far across the grounds of a place she had spent so many days appreciating and could no longer recognize, she spotted someone who could only be Ron. She watched him fall a moment before her eyesight went black and she collapsed as well.

……………………………………………………………

The pain was unbearable. Harry felt stretched to the absolute limit. He'd been under this sort of torture for what felt like years now.

He wanted to scream but couldn't find his voice. He had to focus all of his energy on keeping his mind closed off from Voldemort. He remembered what Snape told him during Occlumency lessons in his fifth year – that Voldemort invaded the minds of his enemies, filling them with awful thoughts and imagery, and didn't let up until they were screaming and begging to be killed. Harry didn't want that for himself. And he especially didn't want it for Ginny.

'You've been practicing, I see,' said Voldemort. Harry could hardly hear him over the pounding in his head. Not long ago, he'd been holding his own against Voldemort. How could the tables have turned back so quickly? 'What a pity that your attempts have all been in vain.'

'We'll see about that,' gasped Harry, getting to his feet. He threw a spell at his opponent, but Voldemort dodged it and the tree trunk behind him received the blast instead. It took several other trees down with it as it fell, and the earth shook from the force of the landing. The damage around them was unbelievable. The massive trees that had once loomed overhead had all been overturned. There was a fire to Harry's right that was growing larger and larger. If this was what had happened to the forest – which had always seemed so intimidating and indestructible – he didn't even want to imagine what the rest of the grounds looked like.

'I have been waiting nearly eighteen years for this. Until now, you have somehow managed to thwart my attempts at every turn. Do you have any idea how frustrating that can become?' Voldemort shook his head. 'Not this time.'

'Kill me, then,' said Harry tauntingly. 'What're you waiting for? Unless you don't think you can do it?'

'Do not challenge me.'

'Admit it – you can't get rid of me. You try and you fail every time.'

'And yet at the same time, Harry, it would seem that it has always been _you_ who cannot get rid of _me_.'

'That's about to change,' he vowed.

Voldemort's eyes locked with Harry's. He tried to look away, but he couldn't. His head was swimming. Memories Harry didn't even know he had were being called to the forefront of his mind. Order meetings … searching for Horcruxes … Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione … time with Ginny … the first prophecy. He couldn't let Voldemort be privy to this information. He couldn't let Voldemort hurt his friends more than Harry had already allowed them to be hurt.

He gritted his teeth and held out his hands, and even though he had no idea what he was aiming to do, something shifted. His memories faded away, and suddenly he was delving into Voldemort's mind. He caught only a few quick glimpses before being shut out.

Voldemort's red eyes were wide with the knowledge of what Harry had just managed to do. Harry marvelled in it as well. Hadn't Dumbledore himself proclaimed Voldemort as being the best Occlumens and Legilmens around?

'Ah, yes. The prophecy,' Voldemort said quickly. 'I suppose it is quite ironic that I have spent the last seventeen years trying to obtain it, and it is only in this final moment at which I hear it at last. But it doesn't matter any longer; this is the end of you.'

The prophecy. Harry had forgotten all about it. It occurred to him that Voldemort had no idea what the second prophecy said, the one about him and Ginny. He'd run through it a million times since first hearing it, and so far everything but the very end had come true.

But Voldemort was done playing. His wand was fixed on Harry, who didn't even have time to react.

'_Avada Kedavra_!'

His life didn't flash before his eyes, and his last thoughts weren't of Ginny or Hermione or the Weasleys. He didn't really have any thought at all.

……………………………………………………………

Ginny didn't know where Harry was. She didn't know if he was with Voldemort yet or if everything had already happened and she'd missed it entirely. She didn't know who was winning or if there could even be a clear winner in a situation like theirs.

All she knew was that Harry needed her; plain and simple. And she was going to be there for him, even if she had to wander around in the blackness of the forest with all of the scary, nasty creatures that lived in it.

She wanted to use their connection to find him. She wanted to lower her wall and get him to do the same so she could at the very least be reassured that he was still alive and well. But she couldn't risk doing that and distracting him. For all she knew, he was battling Voldemort _right now_. The idea sent chills down her spine.

She was so caught up in her own worries that she didn't realize she was going in circles. The fifth time she passed the weird-shaped tree with all the moss and the sharp-looking thingy, she stopped and let out a frustrated cry.

_What a way to go out_, she thought. One day her children were going to ask her for all the gory details about the Final Battle, and she was going to have to tell them that she didn't know because she'd spent the entire time lost in the bloody woods.

Something jumped out in front of her, wrenching a startled yelp from her lips. It was a centaur, Ginny realized a moment later. She immediately hoped it to be Firenze, but then remembered that he'd been cast out by the other centaurs for taking a teaching position at Hogwarts in her fourth year. This centaur took a step closer to her and she could just barely make out red hair and a red beard.

'Who – who are you?' she asked carefully, politely.

'My name is Ronan,' said the centaur, looking at her skeptically. His eyes were trained on her.

'I – Hello,' she said nervously. She knew hardly anything about centaurs, and the only thing she was sure of was that they generally hated humans of any kind. 'I'm Ginny. Ginny Weasley. Sorry for, um, intruding.'

'You are only one of many humans who has come into the forest uninvited this evening,' said Ronan. He cast a glance upward. 'Mars is very bright tonight. I can only recall one other night during which it was this predominant in the sky.'

'Is that so?' she said. She had no bloody idea what he was talking about, and although she wanted to be respectful and cautious, she also really just wanted to leave Ronan and get to Harry. 'Listen, I – I'm looking for Harry Potter. Have you seen him?'

'My path did indeed cross with Harry Potter's tonight, although he was not aware of it,' explained Ronan. He folded his arms across himself and stared down at Ginny in a very intimidating manner. 'Harry Potter is here to finish important business – you cannot disturb him now.'

'Harry needs me,' she said earnestly. 'Which way did he go?'

Ronan stared contemplatively at her for a long moment. 'A great task lies before Harry Potter tonight,' he said.

'I _know_. I need to go to him so I can help him,' she insisted. '_Please_.'

'I can sense that your intentions are pure and good,' he said at last. He extended his arm to the right and said, 'This way. Good luck, Ginny Weasley.'

She took off in that direction, hoping she was right to trust in Ronan. She knew that centaurs hated humans, but surely he wouldn't lie to her about something this important, would he?

She wandered just long enough to truly believe she'd been deceived before she heard a telltale blast coming from just up ahead. She hurried to reach the spot. She could hardly breathe, she had a fierce stitch in her side, and her legs felt as though they weighed twenty times as much as usual, but she didn't allow any of these factors to slow her down. She had to get to Harry.

She finally reached the scene and spotted him. She knew that the wizard before her was Harry solely because there was nobody else it could be. But he didn't look like her Harry at all in that moment. In fact, had he not been standing opposite Lord Voldemort, she would've wondering if Harry wasn't the Dark wizard in the fight. His eyes were narrowed and his hand didn't shake as he held his wand out, keeping it trained on Voldemort. He looked worse for wear and positively murderous. She had never felt so proud and yet so afraid of him at the same time. She pictured Harry, the boy who held her hand and whispered loving things in her ear, and she could not connect him to this _warrior _standing before her who looked as though he was capable of committing any number of terrible acts.

She hardly even noticed Voldemort. She could not take her eyes off of Harry. Not until the words Voldemort was saying made their way to her ears, and by then, it was too late.

'_Avada Kedavra_!'

'HARRY!'

Harry's name echoed in her ears, and she didn't realize it was her who had screamed it. She didn't give her actions any thought; she merely knew that Harry could not die, and she was prepared to do anything she had to do to keep him alive, if only long enough to end this fight once and for all.

There was so much green, and then even more white, and then there was nothing at all.

……………………………………………………………

It all happened so unbelievably fast. The light was blinding as it headed straight for him. In the back of his mind, he thought he heard someone call out his name. The green was all-consuming; it was all he saw and all he knew. Ginny came out of nowhere. She was throwing herself in front of him, and then Harry saw something truly miraculous – the most magnificent creature he'd ever seen was heading toward him, not quite flying but certainly too graceful to be making any contact with the ground. It was in front of Harry _and _Ginny at once, at the last possible second, and then this amazing thing of beauty was collapsing to the ground, dead.

He looked to Ginny, who was staring at him with the most peculiar expression on her face. Her eyes met his but there was nothing behind them. She wobbled and he reached out for her, but she was only _just _out of his reach. She fell in slow motion, it seemed, and Harry was instantly transported back to fifth year when he watched Sirius fall through the veil in just the same manner.

He caught her halfway through her fall and sunk to his knees with her. Was she breathing? She had to be breathing. But she looked like she might not be. She looked almost — but no, he couldn't even think the word. She couldn't be gone. She hadn't been hit with the Killing Curse, had she?

He looked at the unicorn, which had taken the blast and was now visibly dead. But Ginny looked to be in the same state. He couldn't understand it. His mind could not comprehend it.

One hand went to her neck, searching for a pulse. He didn't find one, but perhaps it was merely because he was shaking so fiercely now that he couldn't keep still long enough to detect it. His other hand, which had let go of his wand the instant he sensed something was wrong with Ginny, stroked her cheek.

'_G_—' he started, but his voice died out. His eyes filled with tears and – and this couldn't be real because she was Ginny and she was so perfect and she could _not _be dead. She couldn't be. Everybody else was fair game when it came to this war, but his Ginny was not allowed to die. He had vowed to keep her safe and he had broken his promise to both her and himself. It should have been Harry, not her.

She looked just as she had down in the Chamber of Secrets. She had to wake up from this. He couldn't live without her. He didn't want to.

He didn't deserve her. He had never deserved her. But he needed her more than he had ever and would ever need anyone or anything else. He needed to see her everyday. He needed to talk to her and laugh with her. She was his everything. He would trade everything he had to have her back. He would give his own life in a second.

This fight wasn't hers. This fight was his and only his. How could he have let her get involved? If he'd loved her half as much as he said he did, he would've kept her safe. He'd broken up with her at the end of sixth year for a reason – how could he have completely blocked out all sane thought telling him to push her away and gotten back together with her like he had? He had made a fatal error in judgment and deserved every terrible thing that could happen to him for putting his own need to be with Ginny before her safety. But Ginny wasn't at fault. She shouldn't have to die because he was absolutely weak and despicable and the worst excuse for a wizard to ever live.

Voldemort's wand may have cast the spell, but Harry had sealed her fate long ago. How could he have been so blind? He'd prided himself on always being rational and realizing that there was a very good chance he would die. But he'd never truly entertained the idea that Ginny would be the one to suffer the consequences of his actions. In every scenario he'd envisioned, he had always been the one to die and she had been the one to live on without him. But this – this was unimaginable.

He got to his feet and looked at Voldemort again. It was as if every moment of fighting they'd done before this hadn't happened. His exhaustion was erased. Before, his need to defeat Voldemort had been great. But that desire had been nothing compared to now. Voldemort had killed _Ginny_, and even if it had been the only act he'd ever committed to hurt Harry, it was the only one that mattered. He'd wanted to avenge Sirius and his parents, but they were the last thing on his mind now. Ginny was all he cared about. Even if it killed him, he was going to get Voldemort for what he had done to her.

He didn't have his wand, but he didn't need it. He didn't even want to use his magic. He was going to kill Voldemort with his bare hands and nothing else would be acceptable.

Harry stretched his hand out toward Voldemort and allowed everything to flow out of him. Voldemort let out a strangled gasp and one hand clawed at his neck while the other sent a spell toward Harry. Harry waved his free hand and deflected the spell without a second thought. He lifted Voldemort up in the air, so that his feet were inches off the ground. He wanted to choke the life right out of his opponent, but that wouldn't do. It would be too quick, too clean. No amount of torture would equate to what Harry wanted to do or to what Voldemort deserved.

He said the spell in his mind and Voldemort was sent flying backward. Voldemort stopped himself from falling and began again, '_Av_—' but Harry wouldn't have it.

'_Crucio_!' he cried. It was the most amazing thing … Voldemort was on all fours, crying out in pain, all because of Harry. He had never known such rage in all of his life. The feeling inside of him was nearly unbearable and channeling it into this – into breaking Voldemort down into nothing more than a weak shell of a man begging for mercy – was the only thing he could think to do.

Hearing Voldemort's screams would be satisfying if Harry was capable of feeling that emotion, but Ginny was gone now and all he could feel was rage and hate at both Voldemort and himself. He had no reason to live now. He would prefer to die, in fact, if it meant being with Ginny. But he was going to take Voldemort with him no matter what the cost to himself or others. He didn't care about any of it now, just this.

He lifted the spell for only a moment, then did it again and again and again. It was different this time. Usually when he used wandless magic, he could feel the energy draining out of him a little bit at a time, until he was unable to muster up the strength for any more of that sort of magic. But now he could only feel the power building and building, as if he had tapped into an endless supply of it. He could do anything in this moment. He would do whatever it took. He would do it for Ginny.

'You're just Tom Riddle,' Harry hissed. 'Your father was nothing but a filthy Muggle and you're no better than any of the other half-bloods you've been trying to wipe out for ages. But this is the end – I've got your stupid Horcruxes. Did you know that? I've got _all_ of them. Every last one. And now it looks as if I've got you, too. You're finished, Tom.' He grunted in the effort to keep the spell going. Voldemort probably couldn't hear him, but Harry didn't care. He couldn't stop the words from coming. 'You think death is the worst thing out there? I'll have you begging for it before I'm through with you.'

……………………………………………………………

This moment was both everything and nothing like Ron had imagined all those nights he'd spent lying in bed thinking about it. Blood did not ooze from his enemies and soak the ground. Or perhaps it did. But there were so many bodies everywhere, both injured and dead, that Ron couldn't even _see _the ground.

He put his hand to his chest and found it covered in blood when he brought it to his face. His breathing sped up – though because he was seriously injured or due to pure nerves, he didn't know. He looked up at the sky and was pretty sure he was near the Quidditch Pitch. All he could see from his position was the Dark Mark that hovered above Hogwarts, and it hurt to move so he didn't try to look around for confirmation. But if this was all really happening and he was maybe even going to die now, he wanted to believe that he was going to do it on the Quidditch Pitch.

It had been raining for some time now – harsh and stinging, soaking the living and the fallen alike. It was just what was needed to wash away everything that had become of their beloved school.

Was this really happening? _Here_?

It didn't seem possible that this was what had become of Ron's second home. Up until last year, he'd firmly believed that this school would never have trouble keeping the bad guys on the other side of the gates. And now Death Eaters were on the grounds, inside the school … for the second time! There were times during the last six years that he'd felt safer here than he had in his own home. But because of Voldemort, not even Hogwarts was safe anymore.

This school had once been a sanctuary for hundreds of students. Would it ever be that way again? When this was all over – assuming, of course, that their side won – would Hogwarts be able to re-open its doors? And in twenty years, would students be able to play on the Quidditch Pitch or eat in the Great Hall without thinking about how many people had died in those very spots during the infamous Final Battle?

Ron thought of this school and all that it meant to him. This was where he'd met both Harry and Hermione. Everyone in his family had come here and they'd all been proud members of Gryffindor. They'd all been Quidditch players or prefects or both. It didn't seem fair that Ginny could possibly be the last Weasley to attend Hogwarts – that Percy would be the last one to actually _graduate_. If Hogwarts couldn't re-open, and if all the future generations of children couldn't come and experience every last wonderful thing that Ron got to experience during his six years here – where was the justice in that?

He allowed his thoughts to switch to Hermione. He wished he knew where she was. He wished she was at his side. It was so hard to be angry or even afraid with someone like her at his side.

His eyes slowly drifted shut and he could see her as clear as day, with her hand stretched out for him to take. Her voice was in his ear and surely nothing had ever sounded better. If this was dying, he didn't think it was so bad after all.

……………………………………………………………

Voldemort was good. Even after everything, he was so good. _Too _good. The Cruciatus Curse wasn't enough for him, and neither were any of the other curses Harry had thrown around. Voldemort had come back from everything. He was bleeding and wheezing and struggling to stand, but he was still ready to fight to the end. Harry knew he had to use the Killing Curse, and he had no qualms about it. He had been prepared to do it since the end of fifth year. Hell, he had been prepared his whole life.

But he didn't want to end this so soon. He wanted to get the best of Voldemort and he wanted to hit him with round after round of torture until he absolutely couldn't wait any longer.

There was no concern that he would miss his opportunity if he didn't act now. He would never be in the weaker position again. He felt ... _powerful_. He felt utterly unstoppable. As if he'd had the ability to move and fight like this all along but had never given himself up to it until now. Had he been fooling himself all this time? When he'd used _Expelliarmus_ as protection in fourth year, could he have been doing these sorts of things instead?

His head exploded in pain. This was it – Voldemort's last-ditch attempt to gain back his control. But Harry had dealt with this pain before, and if he had been able to come through it then, he was sure as all bloody hell going to stick it out now.

Suddenly something in his head came unscrewed and Voldemort was in there with him. No matter how many times Harry experienced this, he would never be able to get used to it or combat it. How could he get rid of Voldemort by filling his mind with loving thoughts when all he could think of was how angry and full of hatred he was?

This was excruciating. He couldn't last. He dropped onto all fours, and by some miracle, his hand brushed against his discarded wand. He held it out, almost blinded by the pain, and gasped, '_Avada Kedavra_!'

The flash of green was brighter than it had ever been before, and as soon as it collided with Voldemort, the painful presence in his mind was gone.

Voldemort dropped.

Harry's head was swimming. He caught a glimpse of Ginny on the ground beside him and his heart broke again. He put his hands over her and a white burst of light passed between them, but even in his hazy state, he knew that it probably would not be enough. It had been too long.

His entire body ached and he knew he should try to get himself and Ginny out of the forest and to safety. But he could not get himself to move. The damage had already been done, and so a moment after Harry Potter ended the Final Battle by successfully defeating Lord Voldemort, everything went black for him as well.

……………………………………………………………

**There's still an epilogue. If you liked the way this ended and want to believe that **_**everyone**_** dies, I suggest you don't read the epilogue when it comes out because, believe it or not, some of our favourites do make full recoveries.**

**This took a million years to come out and I apologize. **

**Review.**


	53. Epilogue: The Price of Freedom

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**First chapter: July 19, 2005**

**Final chapter: July 19, 2007**

**. . . That's kind of crazy if you really think about it.**

**Chapter Fifty-Three: The Price of Freedom  
**……………………………………………………………

What felt like a lifetime later, Harry opened his eyes. The white light blinded him, but it was so warm and so consuming that he fought to stay there, fought to keep his eyes on it. Where the hell was he?

His life came back to him in mental snapshots, things and people he used to love but now just wanted to forget. Needed to forget. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but even if it had been years now – and it certainly felt like it was a possibility – the Final Battle was fresh in his mind. It had been preserved there and in this moment it was the only thing he knew.

He changed his mind and closed his eyes again. He didn't want the light. He wanted to drown in the darkness, where there was none of these awful feelings and memories and regrets.

'Did you see that?' a voice said. It sounded hazy and so far away.

'See what?' another asked.

'He just – he opened his eyes,' the first one said. There was a desperate quality to the voice that Harry thought he might've been able to recognize if he only cared more.

'I didn't see anything.'

'Well, you must've not been looking! Just wait. He'll do it again.'

But Harry couldn't do it again. His head burned and his body ached and his mouth was too dry. Opening his eyes would take more effort than he was willing to give. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

'I … I don't see anything …'

'But I _saw_ him do it.'

'You didn't. You couldn't. He's –'

'_Don't_ say that he's gone. He isn't gone.'

'The Healer said –'

'I know what the Healer said.'

'It's been too long,' the second voice said. There was so much pain there. _So _much. Harry could feel the guilt rising from somewhere deep inside of him. 'Nobody could've –'

'No. Maybe nobody else is the world could've. But _he_ could've.'

Suddenly there was a hand clenching Harry's. Warm and large but shaking.

'I know you're in there. I just know it. C'mon, Harry,' the first voice pleaded. But it wasn't enough for Harry.

He felt himself getting lighter again. His muscles were loosening and the light wasn't burning through his eyelids the way it was a moment ago. It felt like a warm blanket had settled over him. There was something more than this. He was sure of it. He was going someplace else, someplace far better. Ginny was probably there, waiting for him. And he wanted to go there so badly … to be with her …

But that foreign hand was an anchor, keeping him from going any further away. He had one foot in the door but that grip wasn't loosening at all. Nails dug sharply into his wrist and he flinched.

'There! Did you see?'

'Stop doing that! He's _bleeding_. Let go of him.'

'I can't.' The voice broke and the hand squeezed his even tighter. 'I … I can't let go.'

'I think we should go home.'

'What? No – he's still_ in there_.'

'I know. I _know_! But he …' the voice died away. 'He doesn't want to come back to us.'

'But I need him to.'

'It isn't up to us. If it was …'

'This isn't _fair_.'

'Ron …'

What part of this wasn't fair? Harry had done his job. He'd done everything anyone had ever asked him to do. And this was his reward – he could finally let go and not have to care about the rest of the world. He'd already saved it once. That was as much as he was willing to do. Everyone he loved was fine now. They were all safe and sound. Harry had given them their lives back. Voldemort was gone. What else could they possible have to worry about?

'We didn't even get to say goodbye, Hermione. We didn't get anything. And Ginny … what about her?'

He didn't want to hear this. Ron and Hermione … he couldn't stand the despair in their voices. Didn't they understand that they had each other? What more could they possible need? How could they take that for granted after seeing what had happened to him and Ginny? And how could they be so selfish as to try to keep Harry in a place where he could never be with Ginny again?

Ron didn't take his stupid hand off of Harry. A moment ago he'd been so close to going somewhere else … but now it was as if the door had slammed shut and he was trapped on this side of it forever.

He hated his best friends for doing this. For not being able to give up on him. For always bloody being there. _Always_. Right up to the end, and then even afterward.

Merlin, he loved them. He wondered if they understood how much. He loved them too much to lie there and pretend he didn't hear them. He wanted to just fall back asleep and never wake up. But he wasn't that kind of person. He wished with all of his heart that he was, though. And he hoped that one day soon he could become that kind of person.

Harry opened his eyes again. And when he finally focused them, he saw red hair and wide eyes and a mouth hanging nearly to the floor.

'Hermione. Look,' Ron choked out.

Hermione was turned away. She didn't look.

'Hermione,' he said again.

'_What_?' she demanded. She turned around and she was the same as Harry remembered. Big brown hair and serious eyes. She had tears running down her cheeks. 'Oh …'

'Bloody hell,' said Ron.

'Harry,' whispered Hermione. She brought a trembling hand up to cover her mouth. 'You're …'

He tried to speak. He tried to tell them that he loved them and that he couldn't think of two other people he would've rather gone through every ridiculous obstacle with. He tried to tell them that he was sorry but he couldn't stay, that he couldn't find a reason to live in a world without Ginny. But he couldn't. His throat was far too dry. He couldn't make any sort of noise at all.

'I've got to go get her,' Hermione said. Harry tried to protest. He didn't want to see Audrey or whatever Healer was assigned to his case. The less people who knew about this, the better. Just once, he didn't want to be the center of everyone's attention. He just wanted to say what he needed to say to them and then let go. But Hermione was already gone before he could even react.

He tried to sit up. It hurt like hell. He wouldn't have been able to manage it if Ron hadn't stepped in and done most of the work for him.

'You're … I mean …' he stammered. He looked at Harry as if they hadn't been best friends since they were eleven. As if he didn't know what to say or even how to act. 'Do you know what the date is?'

Harry just blinked.

'Bloody hell. Of course you wouldn't. It – it's fucking _July_,' said Ron. 'Five months. You've been – er, you were – and – the Healers said you were just going to stay like that. That we should just give up and go home. _Good_ _riddance_, you know? But we didn't. We … I mean, we couldn't …'

Harry could remember seeing Ron this choked up only once before. He was glad for his inability to speak. He wouldn't know what to say, anyway. Telling Ron that this was a fluke and that he really just wanted to go back to whatever state he'd been in seemed inappropriate. Especially now that he knew that Ron and Hermione had been visiting him for the last five months and that they'd never given up hope despite everything.

'Ginny – she would've loved to be here when you woke up.'

Harry set his eyes on the blanket. He knew that he could never put into words to Ron how sorry he was about Ginny. He knew that Ron was too good to say what his entire family probably thought – that if it hadn't been for Harry, Ginny would still be alive and with them.

If Harry _did_, for some strange reason, decide to keep fighting and go home to The Burrow, he would just be a reminder of everything they'd all lost. Every time Mrs Weasley looked at Harry, she would see the reason her only daughter wasn't going to be home for dinner that night. Mr Weasley would see the reason he'd never get to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. Ron's brothers would hate him forever.

He forced himself to look Ron in the eye again. He at least owed him that. He wished he could somehow convey everything to his friend. He needed to tell Ron how sorry he was. He needed Ron to know that he was the best friend anyone could ever ask for and that Harry had never done anything to deserve anyone like him. Harry would never be able to forgive himself for all the anguish he'd caused the people who had so loyally stayed by his side through the very worst of times. He needed to apologize for dragging Ron and Hermione into this and for letting them down in so many ways. So, so, _so _many ways.

He had to tell Ron that Ginny was the most amazing person he'd ever known and the fact that someone as awful as him was alive while someone as wonderful as her had died was possibly the greatest injustice ever. He had to apologize for failing everyone. For not doing more. For not keeping everyone safe and handling the situation the way he should've. He wanted Ron to know that nobody would ever love anyone the way he'd loved Ginny and that he couldn't possibly be expected to live in a world without her. Ron had to understand the reasons why he had given up and why he now wanted nothing more than to be with Ginny on the other side.

Even if Harry could've spoken, he wouldn't have been able to get a word in. Ron was chatting away, rambling about a million different things at once. He really was a terrific actor. That grin on his face looked so real. But how could it be real after everything Harry had done to him? After everything Harry had _taken _from him?

'And hey, check this out,' said Ron. He pulled his shirt up and Harry's eyes widened as he caught sight of a long scar stretched across the pale, freckled skin of Ron's chest. 'Pretty wicked, yeah?' He grinned proudly. 'I spent two weeks in here after the battle. Well, not _right_ _here_, because this is a ward for – er – more long-term patients ...'

Harry meant to nod or smile or give any sort of reaction at all, but all he could do was imagine the million different ways Ron could've gotten that sort of injury. No matter how it happened, Harry was to blame.

'I don't know what's taking Hermione so long,' Ron continued. 'Ginny was only downstairs getting food.'

Harry wondered if Ron realized that he'd said Ginny's name instead of the name he'd meant to say. Or perhaps he'd done it purposely, to see Harry's reaction.

But his thoughts ended when Ron handed him a glass of water. He gulped it down, wincing at the pain in his throat.

Ron stood up and poked his head out into the hallway. 'Ah!' he declared. 'Here they come. It's really –'

The first thing Harry noticed was Ron being knocked out of the way as a body rushed into the room, and the second thing he noticed was who it was.

He stared at Ginny Weasley and tried to remember how to breathe.

……………………………………………………………

Harry said nothing. He didn't smile or reach out for her or anything. He didn't even blink.

Hermione couldn't understand it. If _anyone _was going to get a reaction out of Harry, wouldn't it be Ginny? She and Ron had figured as much. But there Ginny was, standing in front of him, and he was acting as if he had no idea who she was.

'Harry?' said Ron.

'That isn't Ginny,' Harry said. His voice was faint and hoarse. Hermione strained to hear him. He sounded hesitant, maybe even a little angry … but it was so wonderful to hear his voice after going the last five months believing she never would get the chance again.

'What? Of course it is,' Ron insisted. Ginny took a step toward Harry and he was visibly uncomfortable with the idea of her being close to him.

'It can't be,' said Harry quietly. He looked down at his hands. 'Ginny died. I …'

'Harry,' Ginny said softly. Hermione couldn't see her face, but Ginny sounded as though she was close to tears. 'I'm right here. I'm fine. I promise.'

But Harry shook his head. 'I _saw _her die,' he choked out. 'It was – she – she died an inch in front of my face, Ron.'

Hermione shook her head. 'But Harry –'

'Voldemort threw the Killing Curse at me and she jumped in front,' he continued, ignoring Hermione. 'I … there was nothing I could do …' He closed his eyes briefly. 'So don't tell me it didn't happen because I was there and you weren't.'

Hermione couldn't stand seeing him like this. Did Harry think this was all a big practical joke? What in the world had _happened _in that forest, anyway? She'd only heard Ginny's account, and Ginny had only been present for a few moments. Only Harry and Voldemort would ever know what transpired that night, and Voldemort was dead. It would be up to Harry to tell them the whole gruesome story. Something told Hermione that nobody, not even Ginny, would ever get the details from Harry.

'You're right,' said Ginny. 'That did happen. Only … not exactly the way you think it did.'

'What are you talking about?' Harry said harshly, not bothering to look up at her.

'It was the unicorn,' Hermione explained. 'You know about unicorns, don't you? How pure they are?'

Harry shrugged. 'Firenze once told me that anyone who drinks the blood of a slain unicorn is cursed to live a half-life.'

'Exactly,' said Hermione. 'But there are other things about unicorns, too. Killing a unicorn is one of the most awful acts that a witch or wizard can commit. And there are certain magical properties that …' She paused. How could she explain this? She wasn't even sure herself of what had happened.

'Because Ginny was the closest thing to it when it was hit with the Killing Curse,' Ron jumped in, 'a bit of the spell sort of … transferred over to her. She didn't die, but she was pretty bloody close. We still aren't sure exactly how it all happened. People are looking into it but … you know the Ministry. Even if they _do _find an answer, I doubt we'll ever get to know about it. Maybe they'd already known and just wouldn't tell us.'

'Then how is she alive now?' Harry asked, but his voice was softer than before. He was looking anywhere but at Ginny. His eyes met Hermione's for a split second, and Hermione recognized something in them that she hadn't noticed before – guilt.

'That was because of _you_,' Ginny told him. 'I woke up nearly two days after the battle ended, only I didn't know then how much time had passed. I didn't know what to do. You were still unconscious … I considered leaving to get help for you, but I didn't think I'd be able to find you again in that bloody maze of a forest. I thought the battle was still going on, and I was in no condition to fight. I felt so drained that I could hardly move. Ronan, one of the centaurs, told me that he'd seen all of it – right after you killed Voldemort, you transferred the very last of your energy into me. That's why you've been here for so long. Without you, I – I _would've_ died, no question about it. He carried your body out of the forest with me. By then everyone had nearly given up hope that either of us had survived.'

Harry looked as though he was trying to accept all of what she told him, but it was clear that he was still having difficulty.

Ginny moved even closer but still seemed apprehensive about trying to touch him. 'I don't have all the answers; it's been months since all of this took place and I'm still as confused as you are about most of what happened in there.'

Harry glanced up at Ginny for the first time since she came into the room. 'So … you didn't die? And … you're okay … because of me?'

Ginny nodded. 'Entirely because of you.'

'And it's over?' he whispered. His hand was tangled in her hair now. Ginny leaned into his touch and nodded. 'I mean, it's … you said I killed Voldemort and … _really_, it's over? Just like that?'

'Just like that,' said Ron.

Only Harry wasn't paying Ron the slightest bit of attention. Hermione wasn't even sure that Harry realized she and Ron were still in the room. His eyes searched Ginny's face for the truth, and Ginny gave exactly what he wanted.

'It's finally over,' she choked out.

Harry sat there motionless for a long moment. Hermione tried to imagine what could be going through his head, but eventually came to accept that this was something – perhaps one of the only things – that she would truly never know. She was quite fine with that, truth be told. If she got even a glimpse of what it felt like to be him, she would probably break down. She wasn't as strong as Harry in the slightest. Nobody was.

The relief and pride he was probably feeling was unimaginable to Hermione. But the grief and the burden and the anguish he had experienced for the last seventeen years could probably never be erased, even by this moment of unbelievable achievement.

Harry reached out for Ginny, and Hermione motioned to Ron for the two of them to leave the room. She and Ron slipped out quietly, and she waited until she was in the hallway before she allowed her tears to fall.

'I thought we'd lost him a long time ago,' she admitted. 'I … I started to actually wonder if maybe the Healers were right and he was gone …'

'We all did at one point or another,' he agreed.

He put his arms around her and she cried tears of joy and relief into his shoulder. Perhaps he cried as well, but she would never be sure and certainly she would never ask. She and Ron had spent the last five months offering each other support in every way they knew how. Their side had won, but there had been so much death and destruction; Hogwarts had been restored to its original beauty, but Hermione wasn't sure that she could ever return anyway after all of the terrible things that had happened on those grounds. Going back for seventh year was unimaginable. The thought of having to sleep alone in her dormitory was too difficult to bear.

Perhaps the grass by their favourite tree would be just as green and lush as always, but Hermione would never again be able to look at that spot without seeing Remus Lupin, flat on his back and getting a Dementor's Kiss.

Hermione would never be able to express the relief she felt that Harry was awake and (hopefully) on his way to making a full recovery. But her heart was heavy with the knowledge that Harry knew nothing of what had happened to any of the others during the battle. He only knew that Ginny and his best friends were alive, and that the good side had won out against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He had no idea what was in store for him.

She and Ron went to get Benson, one of the Healers in charge of looking after Harry.

'When did he wake up?' asked Benson. He sounded half-amazed and half as though he'd been expecting the great Harry Potter to pull through all along.

'Only a few minutes ago,' said Hermione.

'How did he seem?'

'Well, he remembered the fight,' Hermione reported. 'There didn't seem to be any damage.'

'I'll need to do an exam to make sure,' said Benson, 'and he'll have to stay here quite a while more just to be safe. But I'm fairly certain that he'll make a full recovery, if he's as alert and in tune as you say he is. I wouldn't expect anything less from Mr Potter.'

'Neither would we,' Ron said. The pride in his voice was obvious.

Benson's expression turned serious. 'Is he asking questions yet?'

'Not yet,' said Ron. His voice changed. 'But we were only in there for a minute. He's with Ginny now.'

'She won't tell him a thing until he's ready to hear it, though,' added Hermione.

Benson nodded. 'I understand that this will be incredibly difficult, but you have to tell him,' he said. 'I think it would be best to do it as soon as possible.'

Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach. She thought they'd at least get a few happy days with Harry before he had to learn the truth.

'Not now,' she said. There was finality in her voice that she hoped Benson would not fight.

'He's going to ask. You can't avoid it,' Benson said wisely. 'He'll only be angrier the longer you wait.'

'We know,' Ron told him. _Of course_ they knew. Hermione and Ron had been waiting for Harry to wake up for months now, but in the back of their minds, they had been dreading this day as well. 'But … we can't do it. Not just yet. He's been through so much.'

'And doesn't he deserve the truth?'

'He deserves to be _happy_,' Hermione countered. She peered through the glass window and into Harry's room. 'Look at him in there. He's got nothing weighing him down anymore.'

'You don't know the half of what his life has been like,' explained Ron. 'We've known Harry for seven years, and we've never seen him without something major on his plate. Doesn't that tell you anything? He's never had this sort of freedom before. Just let him have this moment. _Please_.'

'All right,' said Benson. 'But if Mr Potter is anything like you say he is, he's going to start asking questions very soon. And you _will_ need to give him the answers.'

……………………………………………………………

Ginny wasn't at all surprised when Rufus Scrimgeour stopped by later to visit Harry. But although she wasn't surprised, that didn't mean she wasn't outrageously offended by the Minister's nerve.

'Say the word and I'll give him a Bat-Bogey Hex he won't soon forget,' Ginny said under her breath.

Harry had merely laughed. 'Don't worry about it,' he said. 'Stick around if you want, though. This might be interesting.'

Ginny sat down in a chair beside Harry's bed and waited for everything to start.

'Oh, hello,' Scrimgeour said to her when he came in. 'Would you mind terribly, dear, if I had a moment alone with Mr Potter?'

'The only person who isn't welcome in this room is you,' said Harry. 'So say what you have to say and then leave.'

Ginny marvelled at this sudden change in Harry. He had never exactly been the most respectful to any authority figures he disliked – Snape had been a prime example of this – but until now Harry would have never dared be so rude to the Minister of Magic. It was strange and thrilling and rather sexy, even.

'I see your old pal Dumbledore taught you a thing or two about arrogance,' Scrimgeour growled.

Ginny glanced at Harry, expecting him to snap at the mention of Dumbledore. She was shocked when he merely laughed and said, 'No, sir, I learned that from you. Now get on with it.'

'I'd like to hold a press conference in your honour – once you're out of St. Mungo's and fully recovered, of course. You know, give you a medal that says _Order of Merlin_,_ First Class_ and the like.'

'That sounds … dreadful,' said Harry. 'Why would I want to participate in such a thing?'

'You think the world hasn't been sitting back these last few months waiting for you to wake up?' asked Scrimgeour. 'The minute anyone gets word that you're awake – and it'll be soon, no doubt – this hospital will be swarmed with reporters and admirers of all kinds.'

'And I can promise you that I don't want that,' said Harry. 'But how will holding a press conference help?'

'This war is over, Potter,' said the Minister. 'The adoration you'll receive in the upcoming weeks will be huge, but it _will_ end. The novelty always wears off. Give it a few months and you'll be able to relax in your kitchen without reporters busting in through the fireplace; a few years and nobody will even remember your name.'

Ginny rolled her eyes. She seriously doubted that anything Scrimgeour had just said would come true. But it was what Harry wanted, after all, and so she hoped that just maybe this idiot of a Minister would end up being right.

'Again, I ask you how a press conference will help me slip into anonymity,' Harry said, sounding bored.

'Give 'em what they want straight away, let 'em hear the story straight from your mouth, and they'll have no use for you anymore. They'll only want you more if you're quiet about it. Come to the conference – get your medal, give a statement, acknowledge the Ministry for our help in the war, and we'll all shake hands and part as friends.'

Harry sat up a little straighter. 'Acknowledge the Ministry?' he repeated. 'The Ministry denied Voldemort's return until not even two years ago!'

'Look, Potter,' began Scrimgeour. 'Don't be difficult. I'll make sure your, er, _cooperation_ isn't forgotten … if you understand me.'

'I understand you, all right,' said Harry. 'But I'm not going to get up in front of everyone and lie through my teeth about what a wonderful job you're doing as Minister.'

'What will it take to make you reconsider?'

Ginny gaped at Scrimgeour. Harry merely shook his head. 'There's nothing you can give me that could change my mind. I've already got everything I'll ever need … and then some.'

'You've wanted to be an Auror for quite some time, yeah?' the Minister pressed. 'I can make that happen for you!'

Harry cleared his throat. 'Perhaps I'm disillusioned, but I'm fairly certain that I won't have any trouble getting into the Auror program,' he said.

But Scrimgeour's smile did not waver. 'Yes, yes, I suppose you're correct. So tell me what you're after and I'll make it happen. As long as I'm Minister of Magic, you'll stay a very happy man. Lay it on me. Your wish is my command. You ask and I will deliver.'

Harry winked at Ginny. 'Well, Minister … I don't suppose you've released Stan Shunpike yet, have you?'

……………………………………………………………

Scrimgeour finally got the message that Harry wouldn't cooperate and left, though not without a good fight. Harry hadn't minded that the Minister came to visit him. In fact, a large part of him had been expecting it since he awoke. It had been rather entertaining to say the least. But he was glad that the "meeting" it was over with, at least for now.

Harry had been alone with Ginny for what must've been several hours. Not that he was counting. It occurred to him that he would never have to keep track of time again. They had all the time in the world now to do whatever they wanted. They were _free_. And he'd always thought that this sort of freedom would come at an awfully high price, but if Ginny, Hermione and Ron were with him, what the hell sort of downside could there possibly be?

'There's something you should see,' Ginny told him. Her voice was hard to get a read on.

'Okay,' he said. He tried to feel nervous or anxious, but all he could feel was happy. Something told him that all he would ever be able to feel from this point on was _happy_.

Ginny picked up a small hand mirror and held it in front of his face. His hair had covered his forehead for so long that Harry did not immediately realize the difference. It was not until Ginny put a hesitant hand to his forehead and brushed the hair away that he even noticed the absence of his scar.

He stared at himself for a moment. His features were the same as always – his hair just as messy, his eyes just as green, his nose just as straight. But without his scar, it was as if he was looking at an entirely different person. He struggled to recognize himself somewhere in that person reflected back at him. Ginny took the mirror away and looked at him again. He caught his reflection in her eyes and suddenly he could see himself the way she always had. He was just Harry, and for the first time, he felt that he could really begin to know who _Harry _was.

'Are you okay?' she asked. 'Your scar – I …' She paused, looking at him with concerned eyes. 'I'm not sure what this means to you.'

'It was just a mark, Gin,' he said, already believing it himself. 'Growing up, it was my favourite feature. But if you think about what it meant … what it symbolized … I'm not that person anymore and I'm never going to miss it.'

Ginny had tears in her eyes. She put her hand on his cheek and leaned into him. 'It's okay to cry, you know,' she said.

'I can't,' he said. 'I mean – I don't think I even know how to cry anymore. But here's hoping I never have another chance to find out, yeah?'

Ginny looked at him with pity and worry in her eyes, and he felt an unbelievable rage flare up inside of him. She was looking at his as if he was weak or pathetic or stupid. _Nobody_ got to look at him like that. He was Harry fucking Potter. He'd saved the Wizarding world! He'd be damned if he let some snot-nosed little brat feel sorry for _him_. Nasty, filthy blood-traitor. As if she had any idea how to emphasize with him. He was a million levels above her – he was a million levels above them all. Surely she realized that. He opened his mouth to tell her to take her pity and shove it straight up her —

And then it was gone. Even though it was so far from the truth, he convinced himself that he had no idea what could've evoked such awful thoughts and feelings inside of him.

His hand shook and he hid it under the blanket so Ginny wouldn't notice. He no longer had the sudden irrepressible urge to grab her and scream at her and _hurt _her … but his blood was still boiling and there was still that flicker of _something _lurking around in the very deepest part of him. He waited a moment for it to pass and it did somewhat, but not enough that he was confident it could never come back. It was to be forever inside of him, festering and perhaps even growing, taking hold of him, until maybe one day when …

But it would not happen that way.

Harry had always believed that people were either innately good or innately bad, and that it was virtually impossible for a person to change such disposition. But what if that wasn't the case? Maybe everybody, magical or not, had good and evil waging a constant war inside of them … maybe the only thing that would keep Harry from being like Voldemort was the fact that Tom Riddle had not had it in him to fight the evil, while Harry did not have it in him to _give up _fighting. Perhaps, if nothing else, it was Harry's desire to be good – or, at the very least, his desire to not be evil – which separated him from Voldemort.

Someone had once told him that he and he alone had the ability and the authority to choose his destiny. He had always felt that his destiny was to defeat Voldemort … but he now understood that this was not at all the case. The world had opened up to him in ways he could not have previously imagined, and he refused to slam the door shut on all of those wonderful possibilities because of something inside of himself that he _could _control.

Ginny held his gaze for a moment, and a flicker of concern passed over her face before she cleared her throat and looked away from him. As they had previously discovered, their mental and emotional connection to one another was gone. But Harry no longer needed such a thing to connect with Ginny, and he believed she felt the same.

He put his hand on her cheek and said, 'I'm okay.' It was perhaps the first time he'd ever said those words and meant them. Her eyes met his again and he knew that she understood.

Ron and Hermione came in. 'Benson said he'll be bringing you another potion in about an hour,' said Hermione.

Harry shrugged. He used to hate taking potions at Hogwarts, mostly because of the horrible taste. But he would take anything, no matter how vile it tasted, if it allowed him to leave this bed and go home soon. He wanted to see all of his loved ones. He wanted to have a giant party outside, right in the open, because they never again had to worry about being attacked by another Death Eater operating under Voldemort's orders.

Something occurred to Harry. He'd been awake all day and nobody other than Ginny, Ron and Hermione had seen him. He didn't expect everyone to drop everything to come visit him, and truthfully he was grateful for the chance to be alone with just Ginny and his friends for a little while, but at the same time, he thought he really could use a big hug from Mrs Weasley right about now.

'Why hasn't anyone else stopped in?' said Harry. 'I mean, I know I'm not supposed to have a lot of visitors until I'm better, but I'd like to see them all.'

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. Ginny pursed her lips. 'Let's get you healthy enough to get out of here, and then we'll go from there, okay?' suggested Ginny.

Something didn't feel right. He was so used to always expecting the worst that he couldn't even tell if he was just paranoid or if this was a time to be genuinely worried. 'What's going on?' he asked.

'Don't worry about that right now,' Ginny said soothingly. It was clear they were hiding something. He didn't like her talking to him as though he was a child, as though he was _stupid_.

'Tell me,' he said angrily. 'What is it?'

'Harry,' Hermione said slowly. But Harry was through with being kept in the dark.

'Why can't I see anyone else?' he demanded.

'Let's wait for a Healer to check you out again before –'

'_No_!' Harry erupted. 'Someone had better tell me what's going on right now. Why won't you let me see anyone else besides you three?'

Ron didn't look at him as he spoke. 'Because there _isn't_ anyone else but us, mate,' he said. 'Not still alive, anyway.'

……………………………………………………………

**I was thirteen when I posted the first chapter to this. I never could've imagined that this story would span from a few days after HBP was released to today, two days before the release of DH. As of this moment, this story has achieved half a million hits and more than three thousand reviews. You wouldn't even believe me if I told you all of the ways this story was supposed to pan out … this result is nothing like my original plan (which was only fifteen chapters long)! It took me exactly two years and now that it's done, I have no clue what to do next when it comes to writing for Harry Potter. But I'm only fifteen, so I'd like to think I've got a lot of time to figure out my next move.**

**I'll say it right now: ****_I will never, ever, ever write a sequel to this_**

**NOW PLEASE REVIEW. To everyone who has done it even once, thank you. If you've just read and never reviewed before – I know it's a pain and I know it doesn't seem important, but the minute it'll take you to write a sentence or two is absolutely nothing compared to the two years it took me to actually write the ****_story_****. I've read every comment I've ever gotten, so do it even if you only want to criticize me or say this wasn't worth your time.**

**Thank you for everything. I hope everyone enjoys Deathly Hallows … and I don't know about the rest of you, but I've got my fingers crossed that Harry dies.**

**– pinkdigi.**


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